


En Pointe With You

by Welsh_Woman



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Claudia Stilinski, Alive Hales, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Ballet Dancer Derek Hale, Ballet Dancer Stiles Stilinski, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Grew Up Together, M/M, Pining, the sheriff's name is John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 02:35:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7296091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welsh_Woman/pseuds/Welsh_Woman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day that Stiles Stilinski barrels into Derek Hale's life, he figures he'll just get another brother out of the whole deal.</p><p>Growing up with Stiles doesn't necessarily change that thought.</p><p>It's only after a trip to New York that Derek comes back to realize what has been under his nose the whole time...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meetings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alwayzefree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwayzefree/gifts).



> Hello!
> 
> This is a gift for the lovely Alwayzefree and their prompt of "Ballet Company AU: The Hales have a world renowned ballet company located n Beacon Hills. Stiles started ballet class there when he was young and awkward to help with ADHD and tendency to fall and bang into everything. Derek is a lead dancer who views Stiles as a cute but annoying "little brother" until Stiles turns into a graceful swan."
> 
> I hope I got close enough to what you wanted!
> 
> And many thanks to my awesome Mama Eey, who betaed and cheerleadered this story to completion, even when my computer tried to explode on me. Love ya, Mama Eey!

The first time Derek Hale meets Stiles Stilinski, the boy _literally_ runs into him, full speed and squalling at the top of his lungs as he nearly sends the both of them to the dance floor.

“I don’t want to! Don’t make me, Mommy! I want go with you to the school!! _Ufh_!”

Derek’s arms immediately go around the smaller boy to keep him from hitting the wooden floor and bashing his head open; as well known as the Hale Academy is and despite the fact that nearly every Hale has an open invitation to whatever ballet school they want, they really don’t need a lawsuit from a disgruntled parent because their kid decided to take a header five seconds after running into one of the dance rooms.

“Świętosław, _kochanie_ ,” a willowy woman follows after the darting streak that is now using Derek as a shield, amber eyes twinkling as she takes in Derek trying to pry-who he assumes is-her son off of him and failing miserably because the kid is like a freaking _eel_ , “you promised you would be good today. You know you have to wait until you’re older to go to school. I can’t keep bringing you with me, I could get in trouble.”

“I will be good! I won’t get you in trouble!” Oh no, it sounds like this Sti-Sty-this _kid_ is about to start crying and if there is one thing that Derek hates more than _anything_ , it is to see someone crying, so he’s speaking before he can give it any thought.

“Hey, kid, do you want to see something cool?”

The kid looks up at Derek in surprise, eyes a slightly darker shade than his mother’s, before nodding and muttering, “Okay,” as his fingers finally unlatch themselves from the hem of Derek’s shirt, only for him to start chewing on them as his go eyes wide and searching, small feet moving him backwards a few steps.

Huffing out a breath and wondering what the hell he’s doing, Derek notices that the rest of the troupe is watching the show, various looks of amusement on their faces-and more than a few whispers here and there-as Derek makes his way over to the middle of the room.

He starts with some _centre_ practices, basic things that help him get his balance and focus on the mindset he needs to make it through the movement without making a fool of himself, now that he has an audience to perform for…

Moving into the _adage_ , he can hear a small gasp from the boy, and it almost makes him lose his line when he sees the wide-eyed shock on the kid’s face, something that makes his own face split into a grin as his steps seem to come easier than they have before.

Buoyed by the boy’s awe, Derek decides to end with a bit of a flair; he _pas de bourrée courus_ towards the kid, then folds into a _demi-plié_ before leaping into a _jeté_ over his head to his laughing delight, and landing in _attitude_ to thundering applause from his dance mates.

“Again! Again, again, again!” the boy cries, bouncing around as he keeps clapping long after the rest have finished and gone on to their own leçons, his mother giving him the same smile Derek has seen on his own mother’s face. “That was amazing! Please, do it again!”

“How about Derek teaches you how to do it instead?”

The voice makes them all jump, and Derek nearly has a heart attack when he realizes just what it is that _his mother_ has said; he’s no _virtuoso_ , he’s still learning himself, and she wants him to teach a new student?!?

Apparently, because the boy’s mother is now talking about how she doesn’t really have the money to pay for classes and that Sti-Sty-the kid will probably get bored in the middle of them anyway, while Talia insists that whatever Claudia-because of course she knows who she is, his mother knows _everybody_ -can pay will be fine and she’s sure that they can find some way to keep the midget occupied.

The kid’s grinning like it’s Christmas, Spring Break, and his birthday all rolled into one, leaving Derek nothing to do but go along with this craziness and hope that he doesn’t screw up too badly.

“I’m Stiles,” the boy says when he notices Derek looking at him, going suddenly shy and staring at the floor instead of Derek’s face, fingers once more stuffed into his mouth and making it a little hard to understand him. “’ice to m’et ‘ou.”

“Derek,” is his automatic response, before following it up with a slight huff of air as he tries to remember the exact pronunciation that he heard. “And is that your nickname? Cause your mother called you something else, didn’t she? Something that sounded like Sti-“

“That’s my real name,” Stiles replies quickly, nose wrinkled in a clear sign of how much he did _not_ like his given name, “Nobody knows how ta say it, so I’m Stiles now, ‘cause it’s easier.”

“Okay, then.” Seems a good a reason as any to give yourself a new nickname, Derek supposes, before leading the kid over to the bars at the side of the room. “So, Stiles, do you know anything about ballet?”

Stiles shakes his head in the negative, hands going out to cling on the bars as he babbles, “Only that Momma likes it when Daddy takes her to see them, getting all dressed up and pretty and everything, that her favorite dancer is Talia Hale ‘cause she looks like a fairy when she dances and Momma wishes she had the grace that the Talia lady does, but she’s always banging into things and Daddy says that she’s perfects the way she is and-“

“I guess that explains a few things,” Derek mutters, cutting off Stiles as he looks over to where Claudia is talking to his mother, looking almost exactly like Cora does whenever someone has the bad fortune to mention the name Lydia Martin around her.

Figures the first time he sees a _balletomane_ , it’s because of his _mom_ and not anything _he_ did…

“Your Momma is _really_ pretty.” Stiles grins, swinging off of the balance bars like he was a monkey in the zoo before turning to Derek and stating, “You look a lot like her.”

Prying the smaller boy off the bars and trying to maneuver him into the correct line for the beginner’s practices, Derek smiles back and asks, “Oh? Does that mean you think I’m pretty too?”

“ _No_!” There’s a light blush on the smaller boy’s face and Derek is just about to tease him a little when he continues with, “Mommas are pretty, boys can’t be pretty, you are _handsome_.”

Derek’s not really sure how he’s supposed to respond to that, given how earnestly Stiles had said it, but he knows that the kid is too young to mean anything by it other than as an honest compliment, so he just shrugs away the need to tease and states, “Thanks.”

Stiles beams like Derek just made his day all over again, before managing to _trip over his own feet while standing still_ , nearly busting his mouth open on the bar he was clinging to.

Strongly considering going to tell his mother she made a grave mistake and that their newest student will probably end up in a hospital before he makes it through his first _pirouette_ , Derek moves to stand beside the boy, pushing his own feet against the smaller ones so that Stiles has a comparison. “Ballet relies a lot on balance, and something tells me that we’re going to need to work a lot on yours, so let’s start with the proper foot placement.”

Other than a slight flush on his face from the comment about balance, Stiles looks completely focused on their feet, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he turns his ankle in a rough approximation of the way Derek’s holding his. “This hurts a little.”

“It’s just because your feet aren’t used to holding the position,” Derek promises, making sure that Stiles hasn’t turned his foot too far and only making him hold the position for a few moments before switching to another stance, a slower introduction to the _battement dégagé_ than normal, but something easy for Stiles to pick up. “It hurt a little when I started too.”

“But you’re really good!”

Feeling the tips of his ears heat up, which is absolutely _ridiculous_ that this _kid_ is making him feel _embarrassed_ , Derek mutters, “Well, I wasn’t when I first started dancing. I’m pretty sure that every ballerina and cavalier in the entire Academy refused to dance with me because I was constantly misstepping and dancing on their toes.”

Stiles’ eyes widen at this, and he scoots his foot a little farther away, laughing when Derek prods his ankle with his toe in response, the pair of them dissolving into giggles when practice turns into a game of Foot Tag before too long.

“I’m glad to see that the two of are getting along.” His mother’s voice once more causes him to startle, Stiles yelping as he yet again trips over himself when he turns to see who was speaking, once more using Derek as some kind of shield. “Świętosław, why don’t you go say goodbye to your mother while I speak to Derek for a bit.”

“He’s not in trouble, right?” Despite the fact that he’s hiding behind Derek’s legs, Stiles gives the impression that he’s more than willing to pull the older boy away if he somehow managed to get into trouble with his mother.

Talia, of course, just thinks the whole thing is adorable and coos at Stiles; it’s the same reason that Cora manages to sweet talk her way out of trouble. Derek only huffs a little because even he thinks that the wide, puppy eyes Stiles is sending his mother are kinda cute.

“He isn’t in trouble, sweetheart, I just need to talk about your lessons and how we are going to teach you certain things.” His mother reaches out to ruffle Stiles’ hair, no doubt to reassure him, but stops when he ducks back behind Derek’s legs and ruffles her son’s hair instead.

“Okay…” Stiles still looks hesitant, but releases Derek after a moment and heads over to his mother, throwing his arms around her neck as she lifts him up into a hug while babbling away at all the things he was going to learn and telling her to have a good day at the school.

“Mom…” Derek hesitates when Talia turns toward him, always giving her children her undivided attention whenever they ask for it, which is a bit difficult with some of the personalities that reside in the Hale household. “Are you sure that this is a good idea? I mean, you saw him! He tripped over his own feet _standing still_!”

Talia frowns down at her son, eyes darting over to where Claudia is telling Stiles that he needs to let her go if he wants to learn and so she doesn’t end up late for work, poking at Stiles’ sides to loosen his grip and making the smaller boy giggle.

“Derek, Claudia is an old friend of mine, and she has always been supportive of our Academy. I haven’t seen her since I went to New York to train. The very least I could do is watch over her son for a few days before his attention is diverted to something else. I can have Finstock train the boy if you don’t want to, but I will help him for as long as he has a desire to dance.”

“I can train him.” Finstock is an eclectic dance master and scares the tutus off seasoned danseurs with more opening nights under their tights than Derek has had hot meals, there is _no way_ that he’s going to make Stiles deal with the man. The kid looks like he’s barely seven, _if_ that, and despite the fact that he isn’t sure that this is a good idea, Derek isn’t a _monster_.

“Talia?” Both Hales look over at the call, Claudia giving them an apologetic look as she starts to edge towards the door, Stiles running over to retake his place by Derek’s side with a small wave for his mother. “I hate to interrupt, but I really need to be heading out now…”

“No problem at all, Claudia dear,” Talia replies with a smile that Derek rarely sees directed at people that aren’t family, ruffling Stiles’ hair as soon as he gets close just to hear the boy huff at her. “Just let us know what time we should expect you to pick Stiles up.”

“I’ll be back at about six o’clock if the Parent-Teacher Conference doesn’t run too long, and if I can’t make it, I’ll be sure to send Stiles’ father over.” Claudia and Stiles both puff up a little at Claudia’s next words. “He’s the Beacon Hills Sheriff, you know.”

This earns Stiles another affectionate hair ruffle, the kid throwing his hands over his head to ward off any more with a frankly impressive glare that does nothing to keep Talia from crooning, “Oooh, the _Sheriff_ , huh? I better make sure I behave myself, then!”

“Yes, and that means you leaves my hair _alone_!” Stiles pipes up, ducking behind Derek when his mother looks over to him with a playful grin. “Or I’ll have my Daddy arrest you!”

Both of their mothers laugh at that as Claudia finally leaves with an ‘I love you!’ for her son that he echoes back to her, Talia quickly distracted by the arrival of Finstock to begin that day’s lesson.

“So, do I have to go over there with the other kids?” Stiles whispers, looking over to Finstock with the kind of healthy wide-eyed fear that most beginners feel when hearing the man’s morning speech that Derek is pretty sure he stole from Independence Day.

“No, you don’t have to go over there. I’m going to be teaching you for now.” Derek states, moving Stiles into the position they were in before his mother came over. “We’ll move you over to Finstock when you’ve managed to hold _en pointe_ for an entire movement.”

“-AND IF YOU CAN’T HOLD YOUR LINE, **_YOU DIE TRYING_**!”

“Maybe I can just stay with you…” Stiles mutters, moving a little closer to Derek when Finstock’s gaze slides over to their part of the studio, his eyes narrowing as he takes in Stiles’ line, but doesn’t say anything to them before someone else draws his attention away.

Derek snorts and keeps his thoughts to himself, which is that Stiles won’t have to worry about Finstock and his particular band of teaching. After the novelty of ballet training wears off, no doubt the small boy will find something else to occupy his time, and Derek will go back to days full of _pliés_ and _royales_ …

\--------------

There is nothing in Derek Hale’s life that surprises him more than the fact that Stiles not only shows up for more than a few weeks on end, but also _continues_ to show up even when he has regular school to attend, a few years after his mother first chased him into Hale Academy.

“Look, Derek! I’ve figured out the balance!”

“That’s really good, Stilinski, a lot better than last time!” another danseur encourages as she and her partner glide past where Derek and Stiles are training, pausing in a _temps lié sur les pointes_ to point at Stiles’ right hand and left foot. “Just tighten up your line there and straighten out the sickling there. Derek told you about that, didn’t he?”

“Oh, yeah!” Fixing the mistakes, Stiles gives her a wide smile, a front tooth missing from a mishap involving a swing, the neighbor’s son, and what constituted as a proper starting push for said swing. His new stance gets a nod from the danseur before she is turning into the next movement, a wink thrown in Derek’s direction as she and her partner move past him.

True, Stiles has more enthusiasm than grace going for him at this point, and is still prone to tripping over his own feet, but the boy knows almost every beginner’s practice by heart due to nearly everyone in the troupe giving him pointers as well as being early to almost every practice that he has.

Finstock still scares the crap out of him, but Derek doesn’t really fault him for that. Anyone with half a lick of sense is wary of the man that Talia Hale had decided is a good dance master.

Now, though, at nine-“And a half!”-Stiles is quickly catching up to his peers, despite the fact that he is still far behind with his footwork, although Derek is starting to get a sneaking suspicion that it’s because Stiles doesn’t want to advance onto Finstock’s class rather than problems on Stiles’s part.

Hence the reason Derek’s watching him even more closely than usual whenever they practice together, just to see if the kid is trying to pull a fast one over him. He’s learned rather quickly that Stiles can be downright _sneaky_ when he wants to, something that Laura had crowed about when the pair of them met.

 _That_ had been a day that Derek wishes had never happened, if only because he now knows what it’s like to have the two of them join forces. To commemorate their new friendship, they staged a pranking on Finstock that had the man nearly frothing in rage. It somehow ended up with _Derek_ taking the blame for the whole thing and it’s something that he still hates Laura a little bit for.

Only a little bit, though, because Stiles had apologized, all wide brown eyes and quivering lip, which worries Derek that he’s as susceptive to that particular move as his mother is and is yet another thing that Laura’s endlessly ribbing him for when she sees Stiles using it on him to get extra sweets.

( _Heaven forbid_ what Stiles and Paul could get up to; his older brother is _notorious_ for being able to sweet talk his way out of nearly every scrape that he manages to get himself into, and Stiles is already finding out ways to wrap everyone around his fingers at _nine_ -“And a half!”-so putting them together is either a recipe for disaster or the beginning of a plot for world domination.)

Nevertheless, Derek is starting to _enjoy_ lessons with Stiles almost in spite of himself and is a little surprised when his mother tells him that Stiles is going to do a _variation_ demonstration for her one rainy Tuesday.

“Why? I’ve been watching his progress. He’s not that far behind someone that started normally.”

Derek doesn’t like the feeling he has in the pit of his stomach, something in between a pinch and a twist, at the thought that he hasn’t been as good a teacher as he had tried to be; Stiles _is_ a year behind what he should be, but that’s only because he joined a year later than most of the beginners, and Derek’s trying to cram two years’ worth of lessons into one.

Besides, Stiles has been keeping up and has even _surpassed_ some of the steps as easy as if he had learned them as a baby!

Derek is just about to bring that up when his mother cuts in with a, “Stiles has been doing just _lovely_ work, my little bear, but he’s also getting old enough to move to the more advanced beginner’s classes. You need to start focusing on your own lessons if you still want the part of Basilio like you’ve been saying for _Don Quixote_ this summer.”

It _has_ been something that he’s been working on for a while, ever since Laura had performed her own solo in _Giselle_ last year, much to his mother’s unending joy and bragging rights, but there’s this feeling that he’d be _abandoning_ Stiles if he agrees to this… which is crazy, considering that he was certain that the boy wasn’t even going to _stick around_ a few years ago!

“I know, but I still don’t think just springing this on Stiles is fair. You know how he gets about surprises.” Derek crosses his arms and meets his mother’s gaze head-on, something he’s always seen his Dad do whenever he wants someone to take what he says seriously. “You have to ask him first, and if he says no, you can’t be mad at him. You’ve always said we have to respect when people tell us no, even if we don’t like it.”

“Honey, I’m not going to demand that a nine-“

“-and a half-“

“I’m not going to demand _a nine-and-a-half-year-old_ ,” Talia corrects, that tone that says she’s _plotting things_ taking over her voice as she grins down at Derek, making him feel like _he’s_ nine instead of just turned thirteen, before letting out a low sigh as she continues, “dance for me without checking with both him _and_ his parents to make sure that he’s ready first. Really, Derek, what kind of monster do you think I am?”

Derek ducks his head, frustrated at himself for thinking that his _mother_ would do something like that to Stiles when he _knows_ that she would always double check with someone to make sure they were ready for something, instead of just shoving them were she wanted them. She had done the same thing for every danseur under her care. That is also the reason that he’s planning on auditioning for Basilio this summer.

His demand to ask Stiles first had been a knee-jerk reaction to hearing his mother’s request, and Derek isn’t sure whether he should apologize or not when his mother places a hand under his chin and raises his head.

“I was only teasing, Bear. I know that you didn’t mean anything by it other than to protect Stiles, just not necessarily from me personally. He’s a special little boy, isn’t he?”

Derek shrugs as well as he can with his head in his mother’s grip. “He’s okay, I guess.”

His mother laughs a little bit, pressing a kiss to his forehead before releasing him, her signature hair ruffle following the movement as she starts to head to the training room at the other end of the hall. “Just think of it this way; me asking him for a _variation_ is more a showing of your skills as a teacher than anything else. You should be _proud_ of that, right?”

Rubbing at his forehead, more for show than a real need to get rid of his mother’s kiss, Derek once again shrugs as he tries to fight down the feeling that he’s losing out on something here and that his _Mom_ knows what that is, which is frustrating on a whole different level. Shaking his head, Derek follows his mother to give Stiles the news that he might be moving into another class, making sure to ask his mother, “Can we keep him from Finstock for as long as possible? I’m pretty sure that he’ll be the thing that finally drives Stiles away.”

“Don’t worry, Bear, I’ll make sure he’s in Laura’s class if he’s improved as much as I believe he has. Finstock’s more of an intense training than anything else. Only people that _really_ want to punish themselves request him, anyway.”

“Where does Greenberg fit in there?”

Greenberg-his first name long forgotten-is a man that’s been coming to the Academy for the past three years, not showing _any_ progress to the point that Talia has begun to softly suggest that dancing may not be the best place for his particular… talents. It’s to the point that Finstock’s left eye starts to twitch whenever he sees the man’s name on the register, something that Laura takes great pleasure showing him, because she’s crazy like that.

“Honey, if you can explain that, then feel free to tell me as well. _Nobody_ knows what Greenberg’s plan is, other than driving Finstock up the wall.”

Derek snorts, feeling more at ease about the whole thing and more than ready to see what Stiles’ reaction to the news will be, knowing that they will be more than ready to face whatever comes of it.


	2. A Dance For Two

Stiles, of course, is excited that he’s being asked to perform by his Mommy’s favorite danseur-something that  _ still _ causes Talia to preen like a cat while Derek rolls his eyes-and is even more excited to learn that he may be moving up a class (after being reassured that he  _ won’t _ be put into Finstock’s care and will be with Laura instead).

He does even better than Derek had expected, which just proves his theory that a majority of his ‘mistakes’ were caused by self-preservation than any actual problems. That’s not to say he doesn’t trip up during a  _ sissonne _ , but he manages to keep his balance and even throw in a  _ pirouette piquée _ that has Derek’s mother clapping her hands in delight.

“Oh, that was absolutely  _ marvelous _ ! I’m so happy that Derek has been able to teach you so well, Stiles dear. You’ll be able to move into the advanced beginner’s classes as soon as they start this summer!” She beams at the stunned look that overcomes Stiles’ features at her words before continuing with, “You think you’ll be up to that?”

The absolute joy that covers Stiles’ face as he whoops in triumph tampers down the feeling that splitting up from Stiles is giving Derek, making it easy to smile back at him when he begins cheering and dancing around at the news. He almost runs into the walls a few times before he stops dead and asks to use the Academy phone to call his mom so he can tell her the good news right away, with a quick add on of telling his father after that as well.

Talia agrees and brings him over to where the phone is hanging on the wall, dialing in the number for the ‘big kids school’ and asking for Claudia Stilinski before handing the phone off to Stiles, who’s bouncing in place like a puppy as he waits for his mother to pick up.

There’s a click as the call goes through and Mrs. Stilinski barely gets a confused ‘Hello?’ out before Stiles is yammering away at nearly a mile a minute, barely even breathing in between sentences and making Derek seriously worry if they should remind him to do so before the poor boy passes out due to extreme excitement.

“I’m going to be in the better classes, Mommy! I danced really good for Mrs. Hale and remembered to think about the music and not my feet and she said I was marvelous! I’ll be with the kids my age in the summer and I’ll be dancing in the shows after that and-“

Derek tunes out Stiles’ excited plans for the next twenty years and turns to his mother, who is watching the smaller boy with a slightly wistful look on her face that has him asking, “Mom?”

She startles a bit, blinking as she looks to her son before giving her head a little shake. “Oh! I’m sorry, Bear, I was just a little lost in thought. Seeing Stiles so happy reminded me of the very first time one of you learned that you were advancing in our dance classes and told you were getting better. No matter who it was, the reaction was generally the same.”

“Even Cora?”

Talia smiles at him as Stiles’ story somehow has him dancing for his mother in a special city on the moon, where she is the queen of everything that they can see. “Cora has always marched to the beat of her own drum, but even she was ever so proud of her first advancement.”

Derek laughs at that as Stiles ends the conversation, promising his mother that he’ll let his father know the good news and that he loves her, blowing a kiss into the receiver before hanging up the phone.

“Do you know how to call the police station? I don’t wanna make them think I’m in trouble, but I wanna tell my Daddy about getting better!”

Talia chuckles and promises that she has ‘an in’ at the police station that can get in contact with Stiles’ father, complete with a wink that makes Stiles giggle and shows were Laura got her sense of humor, before taking the phone from Stiles and dialing again.

Stiles takes that moment to bounce back over to Derek, singing a little under his breath, a song that seems to consist of the word ‘dance’ to different rhythms and tones. He even  _ starts  _ to dance, a swaying swirl that has no real direction other than where Stiles feels like going, and Derek can’t help but be caught up in his good mood as Stiles makes another circuit around the older boy.

Waiting until one of his spins has Stiles facing Talia’s direction, Derek sweeps the boy up and twirls with him in his arms. Stiles cries of joy almost drown out his own laughter as they whirl around the studio, lost for a few moments in their own little world.

It takes Talia clearing her throat and announcing, “There is a Sheriff Stilinski on the line waiting to hear from his son, if you two are done spinning yourselves sick,” with laughter in her voice for them to still, Stiles leaping from Derek’s arms and towards the phone as soon as he stops.

“Daddy! I got to go to the higher classes and I’m going to be dancing with Laura instead of nasty Mr. Finstock! Mrs. Talia said that my dancing was marvelous and let me call Mommy so I could tell her the good news! Oh! Mommy says that when we go to the moon that you needed to ask for a transfer, what’s a transfer?”

The muted sound of Stiles’ father answering his question fills the studio as Derek takes a moment to catch his breath. This seems to be a day for memories, however, because his mother is looking at him with that kinda-happy-kinda-sad expression on her face again.

“Laura did the exact same thing with you when you danced your very first  _ variation _ , including spinning you until you were crying for her to stop before you threw up.”

Derek blinks, surprised that he doesn’t remember something like that. Well, if he thinks about it really hard, he  _ can _ remember a feeling of weightlessness and the sound of his sister’s laughter… could that be what his mom was talking about?

He doesn’t have much time to think about it, because Stiles is saying goodbye to his father and blowing kisses down the receiver again, hanging up the phone and grinning like his birthday came early that year.

“Daddy says that he’s really happy for me and that everybody is invited over for dinner to celebrate! We’re going to have a party!” Stiles goes off again, bouncing around the studio again chanting, “We’re going to have a par-ty, we’re going to have a par-ty!” so loudly that more than a few of his fellow danseurs give the boy odd looks as they pass to their own  _ lacons _ .

Derek doesn’t know what the looks are for. He stopped wondering about Stiles right around the day the boy came to the Academy dressed up in a lion body suit and claimed he was Aslan for the entirety of his dance lesson.

Talia seems to feel along the same lines as Derek as she watches Stiles pop around with an almost endless enthusiasm, only wincing a bit when his cheering hits a particularly high note. “I’m starting to worry about what will happen when we finally move him into the advanced classes,” Talia muses, twirling a bit with Stiles when he draws near her, a half smile on her face. “He isn’t shy about letting us know how happy he is, is he?”

Derek snorts, also getting a few twirls in himself when Stiles heads his way, making a mental note to invest in some earplugs for that day. “No, he isn’t shy about that at all.”

\------------

It takes a little while before they can calm Stiles down enough to return to practicing as Talia goes to tell Laura the good news. Stiles’ excitement and joy add an extra bounce to his  _ pas de valse _ , the movement carrying him around the room like a balloon released from its string.

Derek is hard pressed not to find the whole thing adorable.

Afterward, Stiles insists on ‘meeting’ Laura, and when Derek points out that they’ve known each other for over a year, Stiles is quick to point out that it’s different now that she’s going to be teaching him.

Sighing heavily and knowing how Stiles can get when he gets an idea in his head, Derek leads the smaller boy to Laura’s classroom, just as the last of the stragglers exit in a flurry of giggles and not-as-subtle-as-they-think whispers.

“Hey, Laura, I have a new student for you!”

Laura spins as gracefully as always to face Derek and Stiles with a wide smile that grows even bigger when Stiles walks demurely over to her and gives a little bow, before straightening with his own grin at Laura’s giggle.

“It’s me, Mrs. Laura! Mrs. Hale says I’ll be in your class in the summer and that my dancing was marvelous!”

“Is that so? High praise from our esteemed dance mistress!” Laura crows, lifting up Stiles to give him a spin, much like Derek had before, and he smiles as he remembers what his mother said about that being their way of celebrating.

“We’re going to have a party when Mom comes to get me,” Stiles babbles from his position hanging from Laura’s arm, his head flopped over the curve of her elbow in a parody of a _poisson_. “Do you want to come with? **EVERYBODY** is invited!”

“Everybody, huh?” Laura quips, dropping her arm so that Stiles lets out a shriek as he clings to her, his giggling getting louder when she waits a few minutes before doing it again. “Well, if everybody is invited, it’d be rude of me to say no, now wouldn’t it?”

Unable to speak through his giggles, Stiles simply reaches out for Derek in the universal sign for ‘Help me!’, his face growing redder by the second due to the combined breathlessness of his laughter and position.

Laughing along with the pair of them and with relief that the strange feeling from before has completely gone at last, Derek makes his way over to his sister and saves Stiles from her grip, ignoring the pouting that she throws his way. Stiles wraps his arms around Derek’s neck to insist that he sit beside him when they have dinner later that day.

It makes sense for Stiles to pick him. After all, Derek  _ is _ thirteen and  _ way _ cooler than Laura’s seventeen, no matter  _ what _ his older sister has to say about it, so he is  _ definitely _ the better choice.

The three of them tease and goof around for the rest of the time it takes for Mrs. Stilinski to show up to pick up her son-a slightly later time than normal, no doubt using the extra time to get everything ready for Stiles’ ‘party’-and precedes Talia into the room to sweep Stiles up mid- _jeté battu_ , leaving him kicking in the air as his mother covers his face in kisses.

“My amazing little boy made it to a new class!” Stiles’ mother preens between kisses, squeezing in a hug here and there. “I’m so proud of you! Daddy is going to tell all the officers at the station all about his talented son!”

“Is Daddy not going to be at my party? He  _ promised  _ that he’d be there this time!” Some of the joy from earlier has dimmed from Stiles’ face at this news. Mrs. Stilinski’s expression matches her son’s before she quickly brightens and gives him one last resounding kiss to his forehead before setting him down on his own two feet, taking his hand and leading all of them to the door.

“He has to cover for one of the deputies, but he’ll be over later on in the evening.” This isn’t what Stiles wants to hear, going by the pout he throws at his mother, but he nods at her anyway and follows with much less bounce in his step than there was before.

“Hey,  _ we’re _ still invited, right?” Derek is quick to interject, trying to keep the mood happy and upbeat instead of the muted disappointment it’s sliding into now, “I know we’re not as impressive as your dad, a  _ Sheriff _ , but we still know how to have fun!”

“ _Of_ _course_ you’re still invited!” Stiles sounds absolutely _insulted_ that Derek would even _think_ otherwise, turning to face the older boy with his hands on his hips and a frown on his face. “Daddy is busy protecting everyone, but you don’t have a badge _or_ a police siren, so you _have_ to come!”

“Just checking.” Derek nods at Stiles’ glare, ignoring the way that everyone else is giggling and just glad that he got Stiles to stop looking so glum. The days always seemed to drag and nothing was any fun whenever Stiles was upset, and they were about to go to a  _ party _ . You  _ had _ to be happy at a party!

Mollified by that and no longer focusing on his tardy father for the moment, Stiles’ mood instantly perks up as he leads the group to the car park, editing the story he told his mother earlier so that the Hale family are also citizens of his moon kingdom, just so long as they help his father protect the moon from aliens and pay proper tribute to his mother.

“I’m sure she’ll be happy with a ballet or two in her honor,” Talia agrees, winking at Mrs. Stilinski when she blushes at the mention, before nudging her children to play along. “Don’t you agree, Derek? Laura?”

“I’m sure we can think of something,” Laura muses, Derek nodding beside her as he watches to make sure that Stiles doesn’t get distracted and run off. “Maybe a play about her marvelous son Stiles, Prince of the Moon Bunnies and Captain of the Guard!”

“Moon Bunnies?!?” Stiles, of course, is more interested in the fact that Laura made him keeper of fluffy animals than a Captain and the pair of them are jabbering away at how adorable said Moon Bunnies would be all the way to the cars, then continuing when they make it to the Stilinski house.

Derek, however, takes that moment to look over the place where Stiles lives; it’s a nice house, with two stories and a mailbox that looks like it rarely gets checked, big windows that spill light out into the driveway that almost seem like they’re inviting them in.

He’s not sure what kind of expression he’s wearing, but Mrs. Stilinski doesn’t seem to think it’s a good one, because she’s immediately apologizing with a, “I know it’s a little small, but there’s only the three of us and the inside is a lot bigger than the outside-“

“Like the TARDIS!” is Stiles’ helpful input, cutting through the tension as everyone giggles before the younger boy is banging through the front door and sounding like a herd of elephants as he thumps through the house.

“It looks like a really nice house,” Derek is quick to say, upset that he made Mrs. Stilinksi feel bad and eager to make sure she knows he didn’t mean whatever she thinks he did. “I was just expecting a lot more rubber for Stiles to bounce off of.”

“I HEARD THAT!” comes from the house right before there’s a clatter, crash, and a slightly pained, “I’m okay!” in quick succession that has Mrs. Stilinski wincing around a fond smile.

“Maybe we should follow him in to prevent anything else getting broken. He seems more… buoyant whenever he’s excited.” Talia motions for Mrs. Stilinski to lead, and then the rest of the Hales are following Mrs. Stilinski into the house after her son.

\--------

Dinner is a rambunctious affair, with Stiles and Mrs. Stilinski interrupting each other to tell stories of the town, Stiles, and Stiles’ father; who shows up right in the middle of a rather funny story involving a little old lady and a case of mistaken identity. He just looks at the lot of them laughing, shakes his head with a smile of his own, and heads upstairs to change out of his uniform.

Stiles is much more animated, something that Derek didn’t even know was  _ possible _ , in the presence of both of his parents and seems absolutely  _ ecstatic _ to have them all together like this, declaring today to be ‘the very best day of his life, so far’.

After dinner and dessert, Stiles insists that the Hale siblings follow him to the living to play Mario Kart, since he  _ finally _ has someone to play with. He wants to see how good they are and whether or not he’ll be able to beat someone that isn’t a computer.

“I’m Mario, because he’s the main guy, you guys can be Luigi and Donkey Kong, because that’s his brother and Laura says she doesn’t need anybody to save her and-” Stiles is already planning their next five games as Derek turns to his mother to see if they’re staying or not, hoping that the answer is yes, because it has been a while since he was invited to play at anyone’s house.

Talia smiles and nods, grinning at the whoop from Stiles as he finds the game, and states, “You go ahead and have fun, Bear. I want to talk to Stiles’ parents, anyway. I know you’ll just be bored having to stay and listen to us jabber on…”

“He’s not in trouble, is he?”

For some reason, the question makes the grown-ups around the table laugh, even as Talia soothes, “Of course not, sweetheart. I just have a few Stiles stories of my own that I want to share, as well as make sure that his continued classes at the Academy won’t interrupt their schedule.”

“Okay, just as long as he’s not in trouble,” Derek agrees, heartened by the fact that nobody seems upset and pulled by both his sister and Stiles calling for him in the other room, the latter fending off Laura’s attempts to give up the first player controller.

Talia smiles warmly at her son and bends to give him a light kiss on his forehead, before nodding at the living room, where it sounds like Stiles is threatening to have Laura arrested if she doesn’t stop tickling him. “You better get going before he makes good on his threat and this evening ends with me bailing your sister out of jail!”

Giggling at the thought of his sister behind bars, Derek scampers into the living room just in time for Stiles to scramble out from under Laura’s hold and dash over to him, ducking behind his legs much like he did the first day he arrived at Hale Academy.

“Derek! Make her stop! It’s my house, I get first pick!”

“I called dibs!”

“It  _ is _ his house, Laura,” Derek shakes his head at his sister’s pout, pulling Stiles back into the living room when he starts walking forward, “and we’re guests here, you’re supposed to be  _ polite _ .”

That earns him a round of grumbling as she thumps back on the couch with her arms folded over her chest. Stiles is a bouncing ball of joy beside him as he sets up the game and hands Derek the second player controller as the character selection screen loads up.

A few minutes, hours, later Derek is more focused on making sure that he stays on the Rainbow Bridge than checking on anyone else, and he shouts out when a blue shell comes out of nowhere to send him teetering off the edge and into the abyss below.

“That’s not fair, I was winning!”

“And now  _ I’m _ in first place! That’s the whole point of a blue shell, Derek!”

“I’m gonna hit you  _ so _ hard with the next thing I get!”

“Nu-uh! I’m just about to cross the finish line!”

Derek isn’t really sure about why he does it, only that it seems to make sense at the time. He’s in last place and isn’t getting anywhere near the lead. Laura and Stiles are  _ both _ laughing at him, but Stiles is closer so he’s the one that gets tackled into the couch to get tickled to death.

“Hey, no fair! H-hey! Laura!  _ Help _ !”

“No can do, Stilinski! First place just opened up!”

Stiles outright  _ shrieks _ at that, squirming around in Derek’s grasp to either get back at the older boy or reclaim his position in the race, but as wriggly as he is, he still doesn’t make it out of Derek’s hold until after Laura throws her hands up in victory.

“Hales for the win!”

That earns them another shriek and then Stiles is launching himself at Derek, making him fall into Laura mid-cheer, toppling the lot of them onto the floor in a tangle of limbs.

“What have you guys been eating?!? Get off of me!”

“It’s not my fault. Stiles is the one who shoved me! Yell at him!”

“You both are jerks! I was just about to beat my high score!”

It’s all a blur of elbows being dug in ribs, fingers digging into sides, and cries of vengeance for the next couple of minutes before a resounding shout of “ **_CHILDREN_ ** !” causes the lot of them to spring apart quicker than if they had been hit with a taser.

All of the parents are standing in the entryway separating the kitchen from the living room, Sheriff Stilinski and Derek’s mother giving them the Parent Look of Disapproval while it looks like Mrs. Stilinski has her hand over her mouth as she’s trying to keep from laughing.

“While I’m glad that none of you are ganging up on the others, I’m not at all fond of the idea that you lot are beating up on each other.” Derek’s mother’s Look gets even more stern as she levels it at her own children. “Especially since we are  _ guests _ in  _ someone else’s _ home.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re not in trouble as well, son,” Sheriff Stilinski adds on, pinning his son where he sits, the grin that was spreading on his face disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. “Just because someone is beating you in a game doesn’t mean that you can go whaling on them for it. I know I taught you better than that.”

There are immediate indignant cries from all three of them after their parents have finished speaking:

“I’m not the one that started it!”

“He cheated! And I wasn’t hurting him! I  _ do _ know better!”

“All I did was win the race! They pulled me into it!”

“Alright! I think that’s enough!” Mrs. Stilinski comes to the front of the couch and kneels in front of the three of them, her amber eyes twinkling in amusement, but her voice completely serious. “I’m certain that none of you were really trying to hurt one another, Stiles has proven more than once that he has a pair of very lethal elbows-”

Stiles turns bright red at that and tries to burrow even further into the couch than he was originally, making Derek and Laura the ones that are trying to hold in their laughter this time.

“-but violence really isn’t the answer to a disagreement over a video game.” Mrs. Stilinski shares a look with Derek’s mother and her husband before turning back to address them. “I think it might be time for Derek and Laura to go home, after the three of you apologize to each other.”

“They’ll still be able to come back, right?” Stiles immediately clings to both Derek and Laura at his mother’s words, his eyes going wide and lower lip quivering at he looks beseechingly at his mother. “I’m really sorry, we were only playing. I won’t do it again, I promise!”

“That’s really up to their parents to decide, sweetheart. I can’t tell them how to raise their kids, I can only take care of mine,” is Mrs. Stilinski’s response, which does nothing but make Stiles’ shoulders drop and make Derek’s stomach feel like it did that time he caught that really bad flu bug.

This was supposed to be a celebration, a party for Stiles’ first advancement, and then Derek had to ruin everything because he can’t think things through or lose a game gracefully… and now Stiles is in trouble on what’s supposed to be a special day for him.

“I’m sorry too. It was my fault, I’m the one that started everything by tackling Stiles the first time.” Derek swallows hard as he meets each parent’s eyes, trying to find the one that would listen to him and not punish Stiles for something that isn’t his fault. “If anyone needs to be punished, it’s me.”

“No, it’s  _ my _ fault,  _ I’m _ sorry,” Laura interjects, her normally joyful attitude almost completely gone and almost as deeply burrowed into the couch as Stiles is. “I’m the oldest and I should’ve known better, should’ve made them stop or should’ve gotten an adult before everything went bad...”

“Well, it seems like everybody is really sorry,” Sheriff Stilinski states as he looks over the dejected group on the living room couch, his lips twitching as he gains everyone’s attention. “Why don’t you just take your kids home for now, Talia, and we’ll call this whole thing a one-time occurrence?”

The children all nod eagerly at that, giving their prospective mothers pleading eyes before they finally relent, Talia ushering her children to the car and only pausing to untangle Stiles from her son and daughter before they get into the vehicle.

“I’ll see you at class tomorrow, Derek!” Stiles calls as the car is pulling away, waving both arms in a goodbye that nearly topples him off the porch. “Thank you for coming, Mrs. Hale! Mrs. Laura!”

He keeps it up for the entire time that the house is visible, Derek and Laura leaning out of the car to wave back just as enthusiastically, and then he’s covered up by the passing landscape.

“ _ Well _ ,” Derek’s mother says with a sigh, glancing into the rearview mirror to glance at her children, “ _ that _ was an experience.”

Derek and Laura can only giggle at that, agreeing with their mother’s statement and nonetheless all too eager to repeat it.


	3. Growing Pains

The following years have many more Advancements-Derek was right about those earplugs-and quite a few dinners at the Stilinski household, so much so that it’s not that uncommon for Derek to show up at the Stilinski’s almost as often as he goes to his own house, or for Stiles to show up at the Hale household after lessons at the Academy.

Hanging out with Stiles outside of Hale Academy or their respective households in the following years is a novel experience, especially when they run into people that Stiles goes to school with. Where he’s more than willing to speak his mind or plot something with Laura within the walls of the Academy or at Derek’s house, outside of those places he’s very quiet and more often than not is more than willing to let someone else take the lead.

Derek doesn’t understand it and usually ends up feeling frustrated by that, Stiles’ insistence that he doesn’t mind and pleads for Derek to just let things be reminding Derek of the times when Laura would butt into his life without asking him first, usually making him feel embarrassed and wanting to flee. He guesses that is what it means to be an older sibling, not really used to the feeling himself, other than that first time Stiles advanced. Despite the fact that Cora is six years younger than him, he’s never really felt the need to take an undue interest in her life due to the fact that whenever she _does_ have a problem that she needs help with, she usually goes to Laura or their mother.

The first time that Derek  _ really _ feels that ‘overprotective older sibling’ thing that Laura is always going on about whenever he gripes at her about interfering with his life is the day that Stiles comes in-or rather  _ stomps _ into-Hale Academy with tears threatening to fall from his eyes and a strange refusal to talk about what’s upsetting him.

Glad that this is the day that he’s working on his _battement dégagé_ , _battement en cloche_ , and other strengthening exercises so that he has something to focus his unusual burst of anger into instead of snapping at people, Derek nonetheless manages to scare more than a few of his fellow danseurs into moving to the other side of the dance studio, if not from the room entirely. So focused on what’s troubling Stiles, and how he can help him _when Stiles won’t even tell Derek what’s wrong_ , he doesn’t notice how badly he’s unnerving everyone until he feels a staying hand on his shoulder that makes him jump, turning Derek to see his mother’s concerned face gazing down at him.

“Derek? What’s wrong, my little bear? I’ve never seen you so  **_angry_ ** before and your dancing is almost…  **_sharp_ ** . Did something happen? Do I need to call Alan? What-”

“There’s something wrong with Stiles” The anger and sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach eases at the sight of his mother. Despite being almost eighteen and well on his way to studying at the School of American Ballet, there are times when he’s grateful he can still turn to his mother for advice. “He was really upset when he showed up today and he would’ve told us if there was something wrong going on at home…”

Talia face immediately goes from concerned to sympathetic as she draws Derek close for a hug. “Ah, my poor bear, I completely understand. Laura was just talking to me about how Stiles seems to be misstepping and sickling his line so much that it was almost as if he was just beginning again, asking if there was something going on and if she should talk to him. Do you want to talk to him instead, Bear?”

Derek nods, feeling better now that they’re going to do something about whatever’s wrong with Stiles and how seeing him hurt made Derek feel. Eager to get to the bottom of things, Derek practically  _ vaults _ out of the room ahead of his mother, ignoring how her soft laughter at his impatience makes the tips of his ears feel warm.

It isn’t hard to see what Laura was talking about when they enter her studio. Stiles seems to have sequestered himself into one corner and is visibly distracted as he attempts something as simple as a  _ changement _ , only to nearly trip over himself and fall face first into the dance floor.

Something in Derek’s chest lurches at the sight. His mother has one of her ‘reading his mind’ moments when she squeezes his shoulder to keep him from charging into the room to  _ demand _ that Stiles tells them what’s wrong, waiting for the movement to end before calling out a halt to the proceedings.

“I’m sorry, Laura, but would you mind if we borrow Stiles for a moment?” Talia grins even as Stiles startles at the sound of her voice, seemingly not noticing them until that moment, despite the fact that the rest of the troupe had the second Talia opened the door and weren’t very subtle about staring at her. “Derek and I have something we wish to discuss with him.”

Normally, Derek would be embarrassed by the sudden onslaught of whispering this announcement brings-because, even though they are highly trained danseurs, they are  _ still _ teenagers, and love a healthy dose of gossip-but all he can focus on is the way that Stiles’ shoulders had dropped as he picked up his equipment bag and headed towards them, obviously expecting bad news.

Derek tries to give him a reassuring smile, but it doesn’t quite work as his mother thanks Laura for her time and commends her class on their excellent dancing before leading them to her private office, glancing over at Stiles every few minutes with a slight furrow in her brow.

It’s only when they are firmly locked in the room, with his mother telling the receptionist to hold all calls for the time being, that his mother finally decides to speak up.

“Stiles, honey, this conversation will not be as dance mistress and student, but as two adults or-I hope-as two friends, and I want you to know that anything you say here will not leave this room… and if you need Derek to leave as well while we discuss things, he will go without arguing.”

“But, Mom!” Derek interjects, too stunned to think of anything to say;  _ she _ was the one that asked if  _ he _ wanted to talk to Stiles, now she was saying that he might have to leave?  _ What the hell _ ?!?

“He will go  _ without _ arguing.” Her tone leaves no question as to the possibility of her just picking him up from his seat to  _ throw him _ from the room and that, more than anything else, makes him shut his mouth and watch as things unfold, suddenly worried that there might be more going on than he originally thought.

“Do you understand what I’m saying, Stiles?”

Stiles nods in response and there are a few moments of silence before he seems to realize that Talia is waiting for him to actually _say_ something and he mutters, “Derek can stay,” to the carpet under his feet.

“Do you think you can tell us what’s troubling you, sweetie?” Derek has never heard his mother’s voice be this soft, nor has he seen the look she has on her face before and it’s starting to make him nervous about whatever it is that Stiles isn’t telling them. “Laura and Derek are worried about you.  _ I’m _ worried about you!”

Instead of being reassured by this, Stiles seems to shrink up even further in his seat and Derek is immediately reminded of that first dinner at the Stilinski’s, not surprised at all when one of the first things out of Stiles’ mouth is an apology. “It’s not anything important. I don’t know why I’m letting it bother me and I’m sorry for worrying you guys-”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetie!” Talia moves so that she’s kneeling in front of Stiles’ chair at those words, reaching forward to gently lift his face so that he meets her gaze as she continues, “ _ I promise _ that we’re only worried because we  _ care _ , Stiles, and because we want to help you with  _ whatever _ is bothering you,  _ whenever _ you need us.”

“I know, and it  _ really _ isn’t that big of a deal.” Stiles can’t seem to meet Derek’s eyes or keep Derek’s mother’s gaze, so he pulls away from her touch and begins to pace the entirety of the office space, hands running anxious trails through his hair. “It’s just that… I’m going to be going to high school next fall and I keep…  _ hearing _ things from people…”

“What kind of things?” Derek’s voice comes out a little hesitant, not only because he’s never seen Stiles this worked up before, but also because his mother had immediately tensed at the mention of ‘hearing things’ that had a sinking feeling taking residence in the pit of his stomach.

“Just, you know, ass- stupid things.” Stiles shakes his head while crossing his arms across his chest, his mouth pressed into a firm line as he grits out, “I don’t know why I’m letting them bother me when I  _ know _ they’re not true and even if they  _ were _ , it doesn’t  _ matter _ !”

Derek’s not sure which part of this worries him more; the fact that his mother has yet to say anything to this, or the fact that Stiles sounds like he’s trying to convince himself almost as much as he’s trying to convince them and doesn’t seem to be succeeding in either regard.

“Why don’t you just tell us what they said, then?” The silence from his mother and the pacing from Stiles are starting to make Derek feel trapped, despite the fact that he’s in the middle of a rather spacious room, and he crosses his arms in front of his chest as he pins Stiles with a look that he hopes says ‘Spit it out, or else!’ when the younger boy finally meets his gaze. “That way we can just tell you if it’s true or not, and you can stop wearing a hole in the carpet.”

With a huff of breath that might’ve been a laugh in a less stressful situation, Stiles rubs his hands over his face before blurting out, “Nearly every kid in my high school said that I was a pathetic loser for ‘dancing like a girl’ instead of ‘playing sports like real guys do’-”

Derek’s stomach drops to the bottom of his feet, even as his mother finally breaks out of whatever it was that was keeping her quiet to snap, “They said  _ what _ ?!?” while Stiles continues speaking as if he needed to get it all out now that he started speaking.

“-and I know that’s complete and utter bullshit-Sorry, Mrs. Hale-so I don’t know why I’m letting it bother me so much…” There’s a bit of a pause, almost as if Stiles is trying to find words to explain something, and that makes Derek feel even more wrong-footed. Stiles has never needed to search for words before, so the fact that he’s looking for some now tells just how much this has been bothering him. “This is all just so stupid!”

“Was that all they said?” There’s a steely note to his mother’s voice that Derek’s never heard before, and it almost makes him feel sorry for whoever ends up on the other end of her anger when she decides to release it. “Stiles, did they say anything else? Something that you can’t tell your parents?”

Stiles looks guilty for a split second before he sighs and mutters, “You and my mom, I really wish I knew how you did that…”

“It’s a special skill you learn when you become a parent, so you’ll have to wait a few more years to figure it out yourself.” Derek’s mother grins at the rolled eyes her comment earns her before softly prompting, “Stiles?”

“Yeah, yeah, no deflecting, I got it.” Stiles exhaled heavily before closing his eyes and blurting almost as fast as the last time, “There was a few of them that said that all ballet dancers were gay and asked if the reason I had free lessons was because I sucked my teacher’s di-”

Stiles doesn’t get the chance to finish that sentence, because Derek is  _ exploding  _ from his chair with a roar that sounds almost  _ animalisti _ c coming from his mouth, causing both Stiles and his mother to flinch backwards before he growls out, “I’m going to rip their fucking throats out.  _ With my teeth _ !” as he stomps toward the door fully intending to make good on his promise.

“ _ Derek Sebastian Hale _ ,  _ you will do no such thing _ !”

His mother’s voice cracks like a whip in the empty space, stopping Derek in his tracks even though he’s still burning with the need to punch those little fuckers' teeth in, to hurt them for even  _ thinking _ that Stiles is nothing but some  _ toy _ for the Hales to pass around. “We’ll deal with them later. Right now, I think we have more important matters to take care of first.”

Derek slowly releases the door handle from his grasp and turns to Stiles, ready to condemn what those assholes had been implying, but stops at the stricken look on his face. It’s almost as if Derek had decided to murder a puppy in front of him and Derek  _ can’t figure out what he did wrong _ .

“Stiles, sweetheart, you mentioned something along the lines of ‘even if it _were_ true, it wouldn’t matter’ a little while ago,” Talia asks, which really isn’t doing anything to calm Derek down, because now he’s thinking about the fact that these assholes had Stiles _questioning himself_ and it just makes that urge to rip them apart flare up again, but his mother continues before the urge becomes too powerful. “What, exactly, is it that these… _people_ said that has you all tangled up in knots?”

“IthinkImightbealittlebitgay?” It’s a blur of words before Stiles turns beet red and once more seems more interested in the thread count of the carpet than meeting Derek or his mother’s gaze, but even so, Derek has the gist of what was said and still can’t understand why Stiles is getting so upset about this.

Unless…

“Wait, did you think that would  **_matter_ ** to us?”

His answer is easy to read in the way that Stiles tenses up, whole body coiled like he’s ready to run out the door as soon as he gets an opening, even as he defiantly meets Derek’s eyes and snaps, “What  _ else _ was I supposed to think you’d say, when you were ready to beat some jerk’s face in for even  _ mentioning _ it might be a possibility?!?”

Hey, his anger is back and that’s a lot easier to deal with than the hurt that was there before. “I was going to hurt them for insinuating you got anywhere by anything other than your own talent! I could give a shit less if you were into dudes or not!”

“You- I- Wait, what?!?” Stiles looks as wrong-footed as Derek has been feeling during the entire proceedings and he supposes that it might be childish, but he’s actually  _ happy _ that Stiles is feeling some of the same mishmash of emotions that Derek has been for the last half hour. “You- you really don’t care? At- at all?”

“ **_No_ ** ! You like who you like. It doesn’t make any difference to me whether they’re a boy, a girl, a mermaid or a fucking  **_werewolf_ ** !” Okay, Derek might be being a little ridiculous now, but he’s just so relieved that this whole thing was just a misunderstanding and that Stiles wasn’t going through something horrible at home or one of his parents might be dying.

“While I might not be as colorful as my son, I can tell you that his feelings  _ are  _ shared by the entirety of his family.” His mother grins at the jump her words cause, Derek too intent on making sure that Stiles knows he doesn’t hate him for liking who he likes to remember that  _ his mom _ is still in the room, before her expression gets a little more serious. “Stiles, I want you to know that, no matter what anyone else says, you are like one of the family and we love you very much. If you  _ ever _ think that we won’t because of a certain facet of who you are, then  _ we _ have failed in this,  _ not you _ .”

“Thanks, Mrs. Hale.” Stiles’ voice sounds a little wet, so Derek finds something else to be interested in while his mom gives Stiles a hug and the boy sniffs a few times before pulling away.

“Well,” Talia clears her throat and smiles at the pair of them, a happier expression than it had been the last time, “I’m glad that we cleared this up. While I would love nothing more than to talk some more with the both of you, I do have an Academy to run and there has been a light blinking on my machine for the past five minutes, so Nancy must be tired of holding those calls for me. Stiles, will you be joining us for dinner?”

“Of course, Mrs. Hale, wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Stiles grins back at Derek’s mother, looking as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Derek can’t help but clap a hand against his back, grinning when the force of it earns him a glare from the younger boy as they leave the room.

“Hey, who is this mystery guy that has you ‘kinda gay’, anyway? Am I going to have to give him the ‘you hurt him and I’ll kill you’ speech, or have you not told him how you felt yet?”

There’s a squawk and a thump like a hand hitting flesh before Stiles is practically speaking at a volume and pace that only dogs would be able to understand.

“Oh my god! Derek! You can’t just  **_ask_ ** someone that, it’s extremely personal!”

“So you haven’t told him yet!” There’s another cry, slightly dimmer this time in a way that Talia suspects means that Stiles has his hands over his face. “Come on, you can tell me who it is! Is it that one kid Laura’s always going on about, Danny Something-Or-Other?”

“No! It isn’t Danny!” There’s a moment of silence before Stiles is responding in a voice so soft that Talia can just barely hear him, the defeat in his tone tugging at her heart just as much as his dancing had been. “It doesn’t matter anyway, because he doesn’t feel the same way about me that I do him. I’m just an annoying friend that he barely even notices on a good day, if that.”

“Well, then he’s an idiot for not noticing you, because you’re one of the best danseurs we’ve had in a while,” is Derek’s prompt reply, talking over Stiles’ immediate denial, “and I can’t make him like you the way you want, but I’m sure there’s someone just waiting for the chance to get to know you and love you.”

“I.. really appreciate that, Derek.” The soft, tender way that Stiles thanks her son has Talia’s eyes widening as the boys get too far away to hear, several things coming together for her, not the least being the rather strong way that Stiles had reacted when he thought that Derek had a problem with Stiles’ budding interest in men.

Behind them, unbeknownst to the rapidly retreating boys, Derek’s mother shakes her head and softly states, “Oh, you’re in for a big surprise, aren’t you, my bear?”


	4. Leaving Home

The day that the letter comes accepting one Derek Hale into the School of American Ballet is also the day that Stiles manages to somehow get on Finstock’s bad side and not be able to talk his way out of it this time, so he is stuck doing  _ arabesque  _ holds and  _ pas ballonné _ exercises until the rest of the troupe has already left for home.

“I don’t understand why you keep bothering the man. Doesn’t he have enough to deal with when Greenburg is here?” Greenburg had a dedication that nobody understood and was still coming to classes, eleven years after his first crash course that had Finstock stating that ‘he had been sober for twenty years and this numbskull was going to drive me back into the bottle!’. “Mom says that there’s an important letter for me in the mail, and now I have to wait until Finstock lets you go before I can open it!”

“Nobody said you had to stay here, Derek. Go home and open your stupid letter.”

“It’s not a stupid letter! You don’t even know what’s inside the damn thing! I know what I want it to be, but I also know I want everybody there when I open it and that includes idiots who get caught by teachers doing things to their leggings that I’m not even sure are legal in the state of California!”

“You make it sound so dirty, Der-Bear!” Stiles starts, spinning so that he’s facing Derek with a cocky grin that been showing up a lot more lately, making Derek wonder when Stiles had gone from his normal smiles to this smirk that makes Derek feel warm and slightly uncomfortable. “I’ll have you know-”

“ **_STILINSKI_ ** !”

Whatever it was that Derek was supposed to know would have to wait, because Finstock had returned to bellow at the younger boy for a good ten minutes before finally letting him go for the day, promising swift retribution if he ever caught Stiles near his personal belongings ever again.

“Man, if I was ten years younger, I’d punch you right in the face!”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” Stiles grumbles as Derek practically shoves him in the direction of the Camaro that Laura’s letting him borrow so he can bring Stiles back to the Hale house. “Tell me how that was supposed to make sense!”

“Does it make sense that you always have to have the last word, Stilinski?”

“It’s a lot more reasonable than half the shit that comes out of your mouth!” Most of that is muffled because Derek manages to get Stiles into the car and speeds away before Finstock, who looks like he’s half a second away from bursting a blood vessel, comes after him.

“Stiles-” Derek starts, intending to get an answer to his question, only to be cut off by Stiles throwing his head back and asking, “Hey, you wanna go to that new In-and-Out on Main? I’ve got a hankering for chicken nuggets like you wouldn’t believe, man.”

“Why are you so dead-set against us going to my house and opening my letter?”

There’s a beat of silence, where Derek looks over to Stiles to see him watching the scenery fly by with such a sad look on his face that Derek feels like a dick for pressing the issue, but before he can apologize Stiles is speaking in a whisper that can barely be heard over the hum of the engine.

“Because I know that it’s an acceptance letter, and even if it’s not, the next one will be. And while I couldn’t be happier for you, because I can’t think of anyone else who deserves it more, it also means that you’ll be leaving and I… I don’t want you to go.”

Derek’s glad that they’re at a stoplight because he’s not sure what to do with that. Stiles has been acting off ever since Derek’s mom had mentioned that she was surprised he had waited so long to send his own letter to the school, which was what actually made him remember to do so in the first place.

Derek had originally thought it was because Stiles was reminded that he still had a long way to go until he would be receiving his own letter of acceptance and recommendations, but now… “What, are you worried that Laura is going to pick on you now with me gone?”

Stiles snorts, but he doesn’t turn away from the window as he retorts, “Yeah, right, we both know that Laura likes me way more than she likes you. If anything, you should be worried for what we have planned for you when you get home!”

Derek snorts, but doesn’t have time to respond because the light chooses that moment to change back to green and there’s already a cacophony of honks behind him despite the fact that he shifts the Camaro into drive as soon as he can. As a matter of fact, they don’t really talk until Derek is pulling up the winding drive to what Stiles has been affectionately calling ‘the Hale mansion’ ever since the first time he stepped foot in the place.

“I’m only going to be gone for a year, just long enough to let the bigwigs in New York know that the Hale Academy is still important, despite the fact that we’re based in Beacon freaking Hills.”

Stiles snorts again, shifting in his seat so that Derek can see his profile as he mutters, “Still, a year is long enough for you to forget about all the annoying people in Beacon Hills and find new, exciting New Yorkers to take their places so you don’t have a reason to come back.”

Derek’s hands are gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles are turning white and his breath comes out in a harsh rush as he asks, “You really think I’d leave and never come back?”

Stiles shrugs like the answer is obvious and doesn’t really matter all that much, but Derek  _ hates _ the way that he  _ still _ won’t look at him. It reminds him of the time that Stiles had hidden the reason that he had been so upset about the things the kids at his school had said.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully, Stiles. I’m just going to New York for a year to kiss up to some bigwigs, see what kind of dancing I can learn without Finstock screaming at me, and see what life is like outside of Beacon Hills for once.” Derek exhales softly as Stiles’ stance slowly unfurls from his curl in the chair, his chest loosening with each easing of Stiles’ muscles. “That does  _ not _ mean that I’m going to just abandon everyone I know and love here,  _ especially _ not leaving my family members in the dust like that.”

“Well, I’m sure that’ll make your family happy.” Stiles gives him a faint twitch of his lips, something that Derek is sure would’ve been a smile if he felt enough joy to give it a little more life-but as it is-it falls just a bit flat.

“Stiles,  _ you _ are part of my family!”

Ah,  _ finally _ !

Stiles’ gaze snaps towards him, eyes wide and expression shocked. “Really?”

“Of course.” Derek breathes out a relieved sigh as he finally gets out of the car, grinning as he hears Stiles scrambling out behind him. “Only an annoying little brother can drive me as crazy as you do!”

“Little brother.” Something in Stiles’ tone has Derek turning back to check on him, but he’s smiling when Derek looks back, so he figures it was just his imagination and heads into the house to hopefully get news that the school he wanted had wanted him too.

Darting another glance behind him, Derek just hopes that Stiles is really as happy for him as he said, and this strange mood will go away when he realizes that-even with Derek gone-he still has the rest of the Hale family to keep him company.

\--------------

The next few days are filled with planning, packing, and every other hour of the day with Stiles either bemoaning the fact that he still has a few years before some ‘prestigious adopted him like Little Orphan Annie’ or gloating about the fact that, since Derek will be gone, he might have some luck with finally landing a date.

“Come  _ on _ , Derek, I’m serious!” Stiles groans when he tells Derek this, which invokes a round of laughter out of the older boy. “I’ve been hopelessly undateable ever since I realized that I  _ wanted _ to date people! Maybe without the walking Greek god around, I might have a chance!”

It seems like, ever since he realized that Derek really is going to leave, he had jumped on the other end of the spectrum of making sure that Derek’s last days at Beacon Hills are the best ones that he has, so that Derek has even  _ more _ reason to make it back home.

It might have driven a lesser man insane, to have one of your friends go from depressed you are leaving to making you promise to take as many pictures as possible so that they can live vicariously through you. Derek is well versed in the randomness that is Stiles Stilinski and rolls with it easily.

(Not to say that there haven’t been times when he’s caught Stiles staring at him, mouth slightly parted as if he’s about to say something, but then he’ll shake his head and pull Derek into some debate or the other.

Any and all questions are met with a hand wave of deflection or a completely mute shrug. Derek just gives up asking after a while.)

“You  _ have _ to walk along the Boardwalk at least once.”

“I’ll send you a text when I do, just so you can  _ stop bothering _ me about it!”

“Come on, Derek! It’s one of the city’s landmarks! You can’t go and  _ not _ see it!”

“Yeah, I got that the first  _ dozen times _ that you told me!”

“Now, children,” Derek’s mother tsks at the sight in front of her. Derek has Stiles pinned on his bed and is currently trying to smother him with a pillow, Stiles’ flailing arms caught in one hand and his legs pinned under Derek’s larger ones. “What are you up to now that has my son considering murder?”

“ _ Please _ tell your son that he has to see the Boardwalk while he’s in New York!” Stiles’ voice is slightly muffled from his position, so Derek moves the pillow with a sigh and rolls so he’s more or less lying next to Stiles on the bed. “He seems to think that it’s beneath him to visit somewhere so  _ iconic _ .”

“I didn’t think it was beneath me. I said I would go, I’m just tired of hearing about it so damn much!”

“Just making sure that you remember it, Der-Bear!”

Talia thankfully interferes before Derek has to explain to John why he murdered his son. “I’m sure that Derek will remember to see Boardwalk and Times Square, as well as the rest of the places you’ve drawn out for him, as soon as he can, sweetheart. I’m also sure that he will either send pictures or bring them back when he gets home so we can see them too.”

Stiles seems mollified by Talia’s words, which would normally make Derek irritated that Stiles will listen to her and not to him, but he’s so grateful that Stiles has stopped bugging him that he’ll let it go for now.

Besides, his mom is looking at him with a happy-yet-a-little-sad expression and he almost knows what’s going to come out of her mouth before she says it. “It’s about three hours until your plane leaves, Bear, so we’re going to start head to the airport now.”

“Can I come with?” Stiles nearly launches himself from the bed and turns pleading eyes to both Derek and his mother, “Please?”

“Of course, Stiles, you can also let me baby you a little bit when we get home too,” Talia answers, ruffling his hair just because she knows that it’ll make him roll his eyes. It’s become something of a thing between the two of them ever since that first time when Stiles was seven and hated it, but now only rolls his eyes in half-annoyance.

“Mom, you don’t need to baby Stiles. He’s not going anywhere!” Derek hops off of his bed and heads out with the pair of them, not bothering to stop for luggage or any bags. Stiles had them stocked and ready to go in one of his weird moods, and nobody’s touched them since.

“No, but he _can_ remind me that I’m only losing my baby for a year and not forever to the harsh, unloving streets of New York.”

“You never fussed over Laura leaving this much,” Derek grumbles, a little upset that his mother still seems to see him as a little kid despite the fact that he’s twenty-one and already looking for his own apartment.

“Ask Laura and she’ll tell you, I fussed twice as much because she was my first baby to leave. I just didn’t do it in front of all you younger ones because I didn’t want to scare you.” Talia stops before getting into the driver’s seat of the car to wrap Derek up into a hug as she whispers into his hair, “You’re my baby, no matter how big you get, and I’m always going to worry about you”

Derek squeezes his mother back, muttering a low, “I know, Mom, I get that. I’ll be okay, I’ve got about a hundred other students to watch my back and keep an eye on me!”

“I know, honey. It doesn’t stop me from worrying.” His mother pulls away to brush his hair away from his face and sigh before turning around and ordering them into the car, pulling out her cellphone to call Laura and Cora to let them know to meet up at the airport.

“Promise me that you’ll call every day.” Stiles voice can barely be heard over his mother making sure that his sisters will get to the airport on time, but it still stops Derek from getting into the car as he looks over to the other boy.

“Stiles, I already said that-”

“No, _promise me_ that you’ll call every day.”

Derek looks at Stiles, sees the way that he’s holding himself and the way that he seems like he’s about a second away from demanding that he goes with Derek as well-Cora had done that, even tried to sneak into one of his luggage bags and got into a fight with Stiles when he yelled at her for ruining his system-and nods.

“I promise.”

Stiles’ stance loosens, it doesn’t fully relax, but it’s on its way there as he nods back at Derek and shouts, “Get in loser, we’re going to the airport!”

Snorting, Derek gets in as well, ignoring the feeling that he feels like he promised something a lot more than a few phone calls the entire ride to the airport, through his good-byes to his family-with Stiles’ solemn, “Remember, you promised,” almost as binding as his hug had been-and all through his plane ride.

It wasn’t until he entered his dorm, met his roommate, and got his first set of classes that he was finally able to drive it from his mind.


	5. Suddenly I See

The School of American Ballet is both everything that Derek had hoped it would be and nothing like he thought. Something that both his family and the Stilinskis had thought was absolutely hysterical when they heard it, yet still offering words of comfort when he needed them.

Not that he needed it all that much with finding Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd within the first days of landing in New York. Erica had immediately attached herself to him after her leer and purr of, “Oh, please tell me you’re single,” nearly had him running for the nearest adult, Vernon-who preferred to be called Boyd for reasons Derek never tried to pry into-sighing heavily behind her like this was a daily occurrence the only thing keeping him from turning tail right then and there.

It’s through them that he meets Isaac Lahey, a tall wisp of a boy that seems to have an obsession with both high priced scarves and pointing out things with a biting sarcasm that almost immediately reminds Derek of Stiles, despite the thought that the two of them can never meet for the good of all concerned that follows shortly after.

It makes rooming with Jackson Whittemore, self-proclaimed ‘everybody’s type’ and a daily reminder to Derek that things could be a whole lot worse, that much easier because it seems like they have a sixth sense for whenever Derek feels like he’s about three seconds away from committing murder. The three of them usually show up to talk, roughhouse, or just make general pains of themselves until Jackson either leaves or just sequesters himself to his side of the room until Derek slowly loses the urge to rip his face off.

It’s not really that much of a surprise that the year goes by a lot quicker than Derek thought it would and all too soon, he’s packing up his things with a promise to the rest of his friends that he’ll call as soon as he gets home.

Lately, Derek has rarely seen Jackson outside of practices or when the guy has something new from his parents to brag over, so for him to show up when Derek’s almost finished packing tells him that this is going to be one of those mornings that make him wish that the day was already over.

“I’ve never seen anyone so eager to go back home before,” Jackson drawls from his place at the door, leaning in to watch as Derek packs his clothes away, his familiar sneer in place as he continues, “Most people bitch and moan until the last minute, and then spend the last few seconds cramming everything they have into one little bag.”

“I’m glad that I’m providing you with a change of pace, then, considering how dull it must be to see the same thing every spring.” Derek retorts, zipping up his duffel, heaving the bag onto the bed before turning to face his own personal devil-in-training. “Speaking of getting ready, aren’t you due to hop on a private jet for a round-the-world trip or something?”

“I’ve got a few minutes, so I came to see what my roomie was doing,” Jackson answers with a careless shrug, not seeming to care that he’s basically doing what he was just complaining about only moments before. Derek doesn’t let it bother him. Jackson has changed his opinion to suit his own needs before, so it really isn’t that much of a surprise he’s doing it now.

“I heard you earlier, talking to that kid from your hometown, the one you won’t shut up about half the time. You guys banging? Is that why you’re in such a rush to get home?”

Breathing in deep through his nose, Derek slowly winds up his computer cord and reminds himself that strangling Jackson with it would probably keep him from being invited back next year. The Whittemores are a major donator to the Academy and one of the major reasons Derek was able to come on this trip in the first place, so killing their son would cause all sorts of problems. Not to mention that Erica made him promise that if he ever went through with one of his various threats to do harm to Jackson’s person, that he’d film it so that they’d have a decent insanity plea when he eventually went on trial.

“No, I’m not having sex with Stiles. We’ve been friends since we were kids, and he was excited to hear that I was finally coming home. Don’t you have anyone back where you live that you’re excited to see?”

“Well, yeah.” The smirk grows wider as Jackson flops down onto the bed beside Derek, making both he and his luggage bounce with the movement, almost knocking the bag to the floor. “But Lydia and I are fucking, so your argument doesn’t have a leg to stand on, Hale.”

Huffing out an exasperated breath, and completely done with dealing with him for the day, Derek shoves Jackson off of his bed, grumbling, “Get out of here and deal with your own shit before I decide to take Stiles’ advice to key that overpriced Lamborghini you drive.”

There’s an answering huff from the floor before Jackson pops back up and leaves without looking back as if he wasn’t tossed to the ground only a minute ago, simply throwing a “I drive a Porsche, asshole!” over his shoulder before slamming the door behind him.

Throwing himself back onto his bed, Derek is just deciding to take a nap before he gets on the plane, because he knows that he won’t be able to relax for the entire flight, when his phone starts blaring a very familiar (and utterly annoying) ringtone. Not bothering to move from where he’s sprawled other than to dig his phone out from his pocket, Derek stretches and throws his arm over his eyes as he yawns, “Hello, Laura.”

He  _ had _ kept his promise to Stiles, after all. There had been Skype calls and text nearly every day, Jackson had complained more than once that he was surprised that Derek had even come out to New York if his family was this codependent (Derek was secretly sure the other boy was jealous), and he had been expecting a call around this time anyway. Really, it was a tossup between Laura and his mother for who had made the most phone calls during his stay here, with the rest of his family coming in a close second.

“Hey, Der-Bear!” is his sister’s overly chirpy reply, making him roll his eyes even though she can’t see him. “Are you excited about finally being able to come home? Do you have everything packed? Did you finally kick that one guy’s ass? Have you started to panic about the plane ride yet? Or are you finally taking Stiles’ breathing exercises advice?”

What _is it_ with people mentioning Stiles today? First, Jackson asks if he and Stiles are having sex, then Laura talks about him within three seconds of conversation. It’s not that it’s uncommon for him to talk a lot about his family to Jackson, maybe more about the boy who crash-landed into his life than his boring sisters, but it’s weird for Laura to bring him up so soon.

In the end, he just decides to do what he usually does whenever he talks with his sister; ignore all the weirdness that comes out of her mouth and answer with, “I’m not panicking, Laura.”

“Right, and I’ve just discovered my ability to turn into a wolfwoman.” The sass is practically a physical thing and it just supports Derek’s idea that Laura’s been spending  _ a lot _ of time with Stiles. Then again, Laura has always been a bit of a pain in his ass, so it just might be that Derek is picking up everybody’s obsession with his best friend.

“Congratulations on your newfound anthropomorphism. I’ll be sure to bring home some rare meat and anti-flea shampoo.”

“Fuck you, Der-Bear, I was just trying to help.”

“Love you too, Laura, and no, you weren’t. You were just trying to see if you could tease me about the fact that I hate flying and make some comment about how I was probably a dog or something in a previous life.”

There is a short pause on the other line before Laura snorts out a laugh that goes on for a good while before she gasps and concedes, “Yeah, that sounds like something I would do.”

It makes Derek laugh as well, the small knot in his stomach that he was ignoring for the most of the morning loosening with the typical teasing. He really doesn’t like flying, can’t really explain why, and it always bothers him whenever he has to step on a plane. He would drive, but being stuck inside a car for days on end would drive him even crazier, so he’s stuck no matter what he does.

There’s a moment of silence before Laura softly asks, “Seriously, though, are you okay? We can send someone to come and get you, Der. Just say the word and Mom will have someone out there before you can say ‘opening night’, complete with our patented Happy Travel bags!”

“I hate long car rides more than I hate planes, Laur,” Derek sighs, still touched by her offer, which is not something that usually happens, even when she’s in a good mood. “Thanks, though.”

“Well, just know that we’re really looking forward to seeing you home, Der. Things haven’t been the same without you here.”

“You mean that without me there you don’t have someone to needlessly torture every day?”

“I haven’t had as much fun as I did the night we saw the debut of ‘Sourwolf’, I will admit that.”

Derek huffs, unsurprised that she would bring up the one thing that the entire Hale family swore an oath of silence on, but Laura still tries to talk about-or rather, tease-without actually  _ talking _ about it.

They continue with the conversation for a little while before someone on the other line calls for Laura and she has to hang up, promising to pick Derek up when he lands tomorrow.

He wishes her well and hangs up, checking the clock to see that there is still some time before he has to get to the airport, so he goes with his original plan of a nap and closes his eyes.

\------------

The plane ride is just as stressful as Derek thought it would be. Squalling children with parents that absolutely refuse to do anything about it, Derek forever seated in front of the one kid that just has to kick his chair, but it’s thankfully one of the shorter ones that he’s had to suffer through and he’s hearing the welcoming broadcast before he knows it.

Walking down the terminal, Derek tries to tamper down the eagerness he can feel bounding around in his stomach, happy to finally be home and away from the slightly intimidating streets of New York that seemed so exciting when he was first offered the position. Now, though, all he wants is his own home, his warm bed, and all his family and friends around him. He’ll leave the hustle and bustle of New York, as well as the almost uncaring anonymity that breeds there, to the people that want a city to get lost in.

“Derek!”

Spinning on his heel, Derek just barely manages to catch his sister’s flying form, only a long history of catching similar flying women keeping him from dropping her. The fact that her body structure is different than them still makes him stumble a few feet before he can right her.

“Nice to see you too, Laura,” Derek replies dryly, yet still tightens his grip when she giggles, dropping to her feet after a few moments before tugging Derek toward the baggage claim.

He doesn’t make it two feet before she’s throwing question after question at him. “So, what was New York like? Was it as glamorous as you had hoped? Did you at least go to a few clubs while you were there? What was it like performing in front of thousands of people? What-”

“Jesus, Laura! I’ve texted you nearly every day, just talked to you  **_yesterday_ ** , what’s with the third degree?” Spotting his duffel, Derek leans forward and grabs it, ignoring the mutters that come from a few people behind him. If they wanted their luggage so damn badly, they should’ve moved faster instead of complaining about it. “Can we at least wait until I’m in the car first?”

Laura decides to give him a break, no doubt because she can tell that he’s not going to give her any answers if she doesn’t, and it’s not until he’s in the cool, air conditioned interior of the Camaro that he responds to her questions. Her reasoning behind going over things they’ve already discussed is ‘you can’t tell tone from a text, Der-Bear, and it’s not my fault you’ve refused to learn how to properly use Skype!’ He is so busy talking that it takes him a while to figure out where they’re going.

“Laura, I really just want to go home and rest, can you please tell me why we’re headed toward the Academy?”

“Aw, come on, Derek! You can’t deny the newbies a glimpse of one of Hale Academy’s renowned dancers fresh from the high class streets of New York!” Laura’s expression turns downright _sly_ , and Derek suddenly is more alert than he was a few moments ago. “Besides, _Stiles_ will be there, don’t you want to see how your old friend is doing?”

_ Again _ with the mention of Stiles.

True, that Derek _is_ looking forward to seeing Stiles later on, when he meets up with the rest of his family and friends, but he’s not entirely trustful of the gleam in Laura’s eye and the fact that this is the _second_ time she’s mentioned him in the same amount of conversations that Derek has had with her when he says, “Of course I want to see Stiles, Laura, but what does that have to do-”

“Well, he’s at the Academy right now, has been spending more time there ever since you left for New York.” Laura wiggles her eyebrows like that means something and huffs when all Derek does is roll his eyes at her. “I need to talk to Mom about your party later on, anyway.”

Derek groans at the mention, knowing that his arrival isn’t going to be the quiet affair that he wished it is, but unable to do anything about it. His mother is a force to be reckoned with when she sets her mind to something, so Derek just leans back and waits until they make it to their destination.

Laura is practically giddy the entire time they’re walking through the halls of the Academy, almost skipping in her eagerness to do whatever it is that her crazy mind has come up with. He can feel his shoulders tighten the longer they’re together to the point where he visibly twitches when she throws open one of the practice room doors and hollers like a wildcat in heat.

“Stilinski! You’ll never guess who I picked up at the airport looking like the human equivalent of a storm cloud!”

Giving him a rather unnecessary pat on the back that is more shove than anything, Laura winks at her brother and makes herself scarce, just as a voice calls out, “ _ EN POINTE _ , STILINSKI,  _ EN POINTE _ ! YOU WILL FINISH THIS MOVEMENT  **_TODAY_ ** , OR I SWEAR BY ALL THAT IS HOLY, I’LL STRING YOU UP BY YOUR INTESTINES!”

It seems like Finstock is still screaming out his teaching  _ leçons. _ Derek is just turning toward the dance master to comment on his unorthodox coaching methods when he catches a glimpse of the man that Finstock is yelling at, mouth going dry at the sight. It’s almost like his world falls over itself and subtly rearranges at the spectacle before him, leaving Derek to scramble to try and make sense of what it is that he’s seeing and aligning it with what he knew.

Gone are the uncoordinated limbs that would cause their owner to fall more often than they would help and in their place are extensions that accentuate every movement. Stiles moves across the stage almost as if he’s walking on water with his partner swaying before him, all broad shoulders and narrow hips and  _ different _ .

**_When did he get taller?_ ** is the slightly hysterical thought that bounds through his mind as Derek also notes a comfort and assuredness that wasn’t there when he left, something that makes Stiles smirk at his partner before lifting them with an ease that showcases lean muscles and a strength that leaves Derek dizzy with the want to see if Stiles could lift  _ him _ just as easily. Derek banishes the thought before it can lead down into dangerous waters, into things that will never be. This is  **_Stiles_ ** he’s drooling over.

**_Stiles_ ** **_!_ **

The little kid that could barely stand on his own before he even came here, the boy that was constantly following him around like a little lost duckling, the annoying little brother that Derek never knew he wanted until Stiles ran face first into his chest, not this… this…  **_stranger_ ** _! _

He simply must have misheard Laura, that’s all it is, and thought that Finstock said Stiles’ name because they had been talking about him. This boy must just be a lookalike cousin that Derek has never heard of before and the Stiles he knows will come tripping out the door on the other side of the hall, fumbling through excuses like always and Derek’s heart can stop feeling like it’s trying to beat itself out of his chest looking at this man that seems so much like his childhood friend but still  _ so different _ .

The universe decides not to give Derek a break, or even a moment to himself to breathe, because the golden boy in front of him fully turns and grins in a way that Derek has seen a million different times in a million different ways, whiskey colored eyes sparkling in that special Stilinski way as he gasps, “Has the prodigal son finally returned?!”

There’s no doubt about it, no way he can rationalize it away. This really  **_is_ ** Stiles standing in front of him.

Pushing himself away from the pillar he was leaning against, Derek has a steadying moment where Stiles seems just as startled by Derek’s appearance as Derek had been by his, but then he is standing in front of the no-longer-shorter-and-now-at-eye-level boy and  _ can’t think of anything to say. _

“Hey, Der-Bear.”

The old nickname settles something in Derek’s chest, a tight coil that sprung up when Stiles had just stood there-completely and unnervingly quiet instead of his usual jabbering self-and just like that, it seems like absolutely nothing has changed at all.

“It looks like you’ve  _ finally _ learned some of the things I tried so hard to teach you, Squirt.”

Stiles huffs and crosses his arms, showing off those lean muscles as he straightens and sticks his hip out, making Derek quickly pull his gaze back to Stiles’ face before he does something  _ really _ embarrassing, like start drooling or something.

“Not so much of a squirt anymore, Derek. I’m nearly taller than you now!”

Derek laughs out loud at the usual bickering, glad that there isn’t any tension between them, that this sudden interest in Stiles is probably just from not seeing him for a year and it will fade the more time they spend together. He won’t screw up their friendship just because he realized that Stiles grew up in his absence, no matter how much the thought of what other noises he could elicit from Stiles decides to make itself known. Besides, given the way that his dance partner keeps glancing between the two of them, Stiles might not even be as ‘hopelessly undateable’ as he had previously claimed.

He’s not sure what his expression at that thought is, but whatever it might be has Stiles suddenly whipping around to see what he’s looking at before brightening considerably. “Oh! Yeah, you haven’t met Caitlin yet! Hey, Caitlin! Come over here and meet Derek!”

The girl walks over cautiously, like she’s half afraid that Derek is going to attack her or start chewing her out for some reason, but all he does is look her over as she comes to stand beside Stiles after a few tense moments of silence. Caitlin has brown hair, small build, and a soft smile when she looks over at Stiles that has a sharp stab hitting Derek in the chest. She’s very pretty, delicate in the way almost all ballet danseurs are, and-if he was going to base anything on the smile that Stiles gives her in return-she has the younger boy completely wrapped around her finger.

Yet, he still does his best to smile when Stiles turns back to him with, “This is Caitlin, the lead for our upcoming production of  _ Swan Lake _ . Despite what you may think, there’s still a lot I have to learn, so I’m just filling in until her partner’s twisted ankle heals.”

“I’m really looking forward to Emily coming back,” Caitlin adds, scoffing a little when Stiles makes a hurt noise beside her that, for some reason known only to Stiles, seems to include some random body movement as well. “Don’t be like that. You  _ just _ said you needed to practice more, and I don’t want to be the one that ends up in a hospital this time around!”

“Hey! That wasn’t my fault!” Caitlin just gives Stiles this look, and some of his bluster fades. “Alright, so it might’ve been partially my fault, but that’s only because Heather was distracting me!”

“Heather?” Derek asks, causing Stiles to jump, because he apparently forgot that Derek was standing there.

“My understudy.” Caitlin answers, once more giving Derek a look, only that’s a lot less fearful and a lot more calculating. He doesn’t like it any better than the last one, narrowing his own eyes back at her. “She was teasing Stiles about this certain danseur in New York he was whining about.”

“Oh, is that so?” This time Derek’s question gets lost under Stiles as he yelps that they still need to practice before practically dragging Caitlin over to their starting position, throwing an invitation to the Stilinski household over his shoulder as he goes.

It leaves Derek feeling slightly wrong-footed and more than a little confused, but then his jetlag catches up with him. He decides to leave any thoughts he has on how different Stiles is to the one in his memory, the strange way he was acting, and how he was going to keep his newfangled feelings from Claudia Stilinski until after he takes a nap.

(The woman is twice as sneaky as her son, and always capable of sniffing out any kind of lie. There was a time in his early teens that Derek remembers that he was almost positive that she was a werewolf or some other kind of supernatural creature, given how quickly she was able to snuff out when he was hiding something.)

Sighing heavily, Derek bends down to pick up his dropped duffel, only to spring upright when he hears a crash on the other side of the room.

“Stilinski! Pay attention to your partner and not on daydreaming!”

“Sorry, Coach, sorry!” Stiles’ face is flushed and he can’t seem to meet Derek’s eye, determinedly keeping his gaze on Caitlin, who looks like she’s biting her lower lip to keep from laughing. “I got distracted…”

“Yeah, I think the whole troupe could see that.”

Slightly buoyed by the laughter that follows, and by the fact that it seems like it’s more teasing than bullying, Derek heads for his apartment with the knowledge that there are some things that never change.


	6. Revelations

Thankfully, Claudia doesn’t say anything when Derek drops by the Stilinski household, although she does take one look at him and her face  _ blooms _ into a smile so wide that Derek’s jaw aches just looking at it.

“How do you do that?” Derek grumbles, remembering a similar question being asked of his own mother a few years ago. Sure enough, Claudia’s answer is just the same as Talia’s has been. “It a special skill parents learn. Welcome home, sweetheart.”

Derek steps into the arms of the woman that’s as good as a second mother and timidly asks, “So, you don’t mind?”

“Of course not, sweetie! As a matter of fact, I saw this coming long before anyone else did-”

“Oh, god.” Derek’s head falls into his hands as Claudia giggles beside him, only peeking out when she tugs him into the living room and the sofa there. “Everybody else knows?!?”

“Well, it’s more that we could see it was a possibility, given that the two of you had been attached at the hip ever since Stiles started at the Academy, this past year the only time you’ve ever been apart.”

Derek groans at that, hating that the one thing that made him see Stiles as more than a little brother was also the catalyst for Stiles growing into his own and finding someone other than Derek to love.

“You haven’t told him yet, have you?” Claudia’s voice is soft, but a little bit reproachful, something that makes him feel a little bit guilty even as he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, that’ll go over well. ‘Hey, Stiles! Remember all those times I said you were like a brother to me? Well, you’re not the only thing that’s changed this year!’ No offense, Claudia, but that’s just asking for trouble.”

“If you think he’s changed that much in just a year, you really haven’t been paying attention.” Claudia gives Derek’s incredulous look a raised brow of her own, huffing out a laugh when Derek frowns at her. “Who do you think has been feeding and raising that boy? Trust me, other than a surprise growth spurt here and there, you’ve missed a lot more than you think you have.”

Derek sighs heavily, leaning back so that he’s practically draped over the front of the sofa. “Yeah, I’m starting to see that.”

Claudia pats his knee before getting up and making her way into the kitchen, Derek listening through closed eyes as she rustles around before the sound of water hitting a pot reaches his ears. “I’m going to make you some tea, and then you’re going to take a nap before your party tonight.”

“But-”

“Stiles isn’t going anywhere, sweetie. I think this is one of those times that I’m going to insist that you think things through before rushing into anything, considering it’s my son that’s part of what you’re contemplating.”

Once more, Derek hears only a bit of concern mixed with warning that she will take matters into her own hands if he doesn’t listen, so he just lets the sound of the Stilinski household lull him into a kind of half sleep state before he feels Claudia set a cup of tea in his hand.

“The spare bedroom is all set up for you, if you want to use it.” At his disgruntled expression at her ability to somehow read his mind almost as well as his mother can, Claudia laughs and says, “I figured you wanted a place that’s a little quieter than your parent’s house and Peter has commandeered your apartment for the ‘foreseeable future’ as he says.”

Grumbling at his past self for thinking it was ever a good idea to give his uncle a key to his apartment, something that was only to be used in emergencies, Derek thanks Claudia for both the tea and the hospitality, earning him a caress and a reprimand that he would ever think differently.

The tea is the perfect temperature when he takes the first sip. He slowly finishes it as he makes it to the guest room on the second landing, pausing for a moment to stand outside of Stiles’ room and debate on whether or not to go inside and see if there are any more changes that he missed staring him in the face. In the end, he decides not to, sleep and a slight reprieve from the thoughts that are fighting to be heard in his head calling him far more sweetly than the siren’s song of Stiles’ room, something he just knows will end up making him feel even more depressed than before.

Yawning heavily, Derek sets the cup on the nightstand next to the bed and curls up under the covers, thinking of the last time he had slept here. The rest of his family had come down with the chicken pox, so Derek had spent nearly a week with the Stilinskis, bunking down here when John had coughed out that he thought they were a little too old to be sharing the same bed.

It hadn’t meant anything to him then, but now he can see it with a fresher pair of eyes and see that John probably knew-or at least, suspected-that there was more going on between he and Stiles, despite Derek not even knowing it himself.

He’s just slipping under the abyss of sleep when he hears a door open downstairs, the soft murmur of voices, and then the light tread of footsteps coming up the hall before stopping outside of his door. He doesn’t open his eyes when the door opens, safe in the knowledge that the Stilinskis are nothing like his sisters and will let him sleep peacefully, so he doesn’t even flinch when a hand lightly brushes his hair away from his face before lips press a gentle kiss against his brow.

**_It was nice of Claudia to check on me_ ** , is his last thought before he finally falls asleep to the sound of the door closing behind her.

\-----------

His welcome home party is-in a word- _ loud _ .

Another good word would be  _ big _ .

Two things that Derek really isn’t that fond of in large quantities, so he’s currently trying to wade his way through the mess of bodies to find somewhere quiet to take a moment and just  _ breathe _ **_._ **

Apparently, Stiles had pitched the idea of a full on rave and Talia had agreed to it, making Derek wonder-and not for the first time-if he was the only one that fell to the Stilinski charm… or if it was just that nobody could really say no to Stiles whenever he put his mind to something.

He’s met a few people that Stiles invited, but he can only remember two, despite his best efforts. Danny, the dancer that Laura had bragged about and who had been Stiles’ friend ever since he came out. Then there was Scott, who was apparently Stiles’ long lost brother that he had been separated from at birth and with whom he had sworn an oath to make him his real brother, despite the fact that his parents were happily married and Scott already had a mom.

“And she’s a really good mom,” Scott had insisted, crooked jaw splitting into a soft smile, Stiles smiling back although Derek was sure that he was just agreeing to keep his friend happy. “She takes care of me a whole lot better than my dad ever did. He never even deserved her!” There’s a bit of silence while Scott looks like he’s either constipated or thinking before he adds, “Asshole.”

Stiles nods like these are words of wisdom straight from a prophet. Derek decides that now would be a good time to separate these two, before anything disastrous happens.

“Hey, isn’t that Allison?” Derek hopes that’s the name of the girl that Scott was going on about as he points to the farther ends of the house. “Why don’t you go say hi to her and tell her how awesome your mom is?”

Scott looks at Derek like he just announced he found the cure to cancer before nearly shouting, “Great idea, man!” and giving Derek a quick hug before darting in the vague direction that Derek had been pointing.

“He is such a lightweight,” Stiles snorts, taking a sip of his own drink, eyebrow cocked like he’s daring Derek to ask if it’s as spiked as Scott’s had been. Derek’s a little more preoccupied with the length of his throat and the dip of his collarbones to do more than grunt in reply, which seems good enough for Stiles to continue.

“I mean, he knows that Allison’s parents would never let her come to a party like this, but he’s determined that their love is so great, that it’ll make them change their minds. Crazy, huh?”

Stiles’ tone sounds almost  _ envious _ despite his words and Derek is pulled from his thought of trying not to notice how well his shirt fits him to look at his face, which is staring off into the living room with a sad sort of twist to his lips, making Derek follow his gaze. He sees Caitlin with another person in her lap, practically looking like she’s swallowing her partner whole with how heavily they’re kissing and Derek is stuck in sheer disbelief that she would do something like that to Stiles.

There’s no way that Stiles can’t see her, and she knew that he was going to be here because he was the one that fucking invited her in the first place. Derek has never hated someone so much in his entire life.

Twisting so that he’s blocking Stiles’ view of the room, he grips the younger boy by the shoulders and flatly states, “It’s not crazy to think that your love can move mountains. If there’s anybody that can make the impossible happen, it’s you.”

Stiles blinks at him for a moment, surprised by the words or the action, Derek doesn’t know. Derek doesn’t get to find out because just as he’s about to open his mouth to suggest getting out of there, Stiles is pressing his lips against Derek’s in a move that makes him stumble a bit.

It also makes Derek realize, due to the stumble and the slight whiskey he tasted, that Stiles was drinking just as heavily as Scott had been and his mind immediately begins wondering if this is just some way to get over Caitlin hurting him like this. Stiles hadn’t sounded surprised to see her, just a little sad, and had been drinking like he needed it beforehand.

“Stiles, wait.” Derek stops Stiles’ second attempt at a kiss with the hands that he still has on his shoulders, making an impatient growl slip from the younger man’s throat, but it only makes him that much more determined that he needs to have his say.

“I can’t do this. I can’t-” The thought of Stiles just using him as a means to escape and forget about his hurt makes Derek’s throat close up, leaving him to only shake his head in denial. He’s come to grips with the fact that he loves Stiles, but he can’t just be a one night for him.

He just can’t.

Stiles makes another sound this time, more painful than the last one, and slips from Derek’s grip with wide eyes and a panicked expression on his face as his senses seem to come back to him. He shakes his head. “Yeah, I- I get it. Message received loud and clear, Derek.”

Something… something’s  **_wrong_ ** and Derek can feel a ball of dread freezing his stomach as Stiles seems like he about two seconds from running away from him. “Stiles, please-”

“You know what? I think I’m done partying for the night.” Stiles starts backing away, not quick enough to be running, but coming pretty damn close. “I’m just going to grab Scott and head home. I’ll see you later, Derek”

And he’s gone, making Derek feel like he just ruined something he never even really got the chance to really have.


	7. Finally

There are few things that Derek wishes that he could undo, but letting Stiles kiss him at his party is right at the top of his list. Ever since that night Stiles has been doing his damnedest to avoid spending any time with him unless there are one or more people to run interference between them. It’s driving Derek absolutely  **_crazy_ ** .

He knows that he shouldn’t have let the kiss happen, that there were a million reasons why it was a bad idea, but the main reason that should’ve stopped him to begin with is now being played out right now in heart-wrenching Technicolor. Stiles obviously doesn’t feel the same way about Derek that he does for the younger boy and Stiles is so uncomfortable around him that he can’t even say it to his face.

Dimly aware of Finstock yelling something about knowing every step as both cavalier and ballerina, Derek watches as Stiles and Scott argue at the other end of the hall and is hit with a sudden sickening thought. Maybe it isn’t that he hates Derek for letting the kiss happen, maybe it’s that he never would’ve come onto Derek unless he was drunk and now he can’t look at Derek without feeling guilty for what happened?

It must’ve been the alcohol making him feel less reserved around Derek than he had been since he came back. It had been the alcohol that made Stiles lean in for a second, his tongue dragging along the seam of Derek’s lips as if asking for entrance before he stumbled.

“ **_HALE_ ** !”

Derek jumps, much to the amusement of his fellow danseurs. He manages a moment of eye contact when Stiles’ gaze darts over to him at Finstock’s bellow before quickly turning away again, cheeks a rosy red that make Derek want to know if they feel as warm under his palm as they look.

“Yes, Coach?” Derek asks, before wincing when he remembers that agreeing to anything when he’s not sure what is being discussed is tantamount to volunteering to be a practice dummy for the Judo Finstock does to ‘calm down’ after going through a lesson with Greenburg.

Sure enough, the man’s face splits into a wide grin that would do the Cheshire cat proud. “Excellent, then you and Stilinski can give the rest of the class a demonstration.”

There’s a sharp noise in the general direction of where Stiles is standing, but Derek is too busy looking at his dance master to worry about that right now. “Wait, what? What exactly are we doing?”

Finstock grins like his wildest dreams are coming true and states with a bit of manic joyfulness, “I was just explaining to the class that one should never expect the steps they learn to be the only thing they need when they are out on that stage. Since you boys obviously know  _ so much _ that you thought you  _ didn’t _ need to listen to me teach, I asked if you would be willing to demonstrate and you so helpfully agreed.”

“ **_I_ ** didn’t agree,” Stiles mutters, and Derek’s heart sinks at the dismay that he can hear there, even as Finstock yells, “Tough tights, Stilinski! Get your ass over here!”

Grumbling under his breath, Stiles moves so that he’s standing in front of Derek, the redness from earlier still brightening up his face as he gives Derek a grimace of a smile as the music queues up. Then he’s just  _ standing there _ as the first notes start to play, biting at his bottom lip in a way that would be distracting if it didn’t showcase how nervous he is.

Well, Derek is the one that screwed this up, so he should be the one that makes the first step to fixing this. Granted, trying to have a private conversation in front of an audience isn’t really how he wants to go about it, but he’ll take what he can get as he steps forward to wrap a hand around Stiles’ waist and hopes that he can find some way to get Stiles to forgive him.

Other than a slight tensing when Derek had first touched him, Stiles allows Derek to lead him in the  _ glissade _ and other  _ en avant _ steps as the music goes through its soft melody, but that’s also  _ all _ Stiles does. He doesn’t lean one way or the other in a playful way of seeing if he can throw Derek off, nor does he throw in unnecessary winks or facial expressions to make Derek laugh.

He might as well be dancing with a  _ doll _ .

During one of the crescendo parts of the music, Derek pulls Stiles toward him and uses a turning in their  _ pas de deux _ to block them from the rest of the troupe’s eyes as he whispers, “I wish I knew what I did to make you hate me so much. If this is about that kiss-”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, because Stiles is suddenly twisting in his grip, in their position, and his face as he snaps, “I don’t want to talk about it!” before pulling away from Derek to  _ brisé _ to the other side of the room, his movements stiff and angry even as they stay perfectly in line.

It becomes less of a dance and more of a  **_battle_ ** after that. As soon as Derek follows him, Stiles immediately switches into a flurry of  _ grand battement en cloche  _ that would’ve knocked Derek on his ass if he wasn’t paying attention, so-since Stiles seems to bring out the child in him-Derek retaliates with a  _ tours chaînés déboulés _ that has Stiles backing up a few paces with an almighty frown as he does so.

On and on it goes, each retaliating with a new step that has the other either matching in ferocity or dodging so that they don’t get severely hurt. They’re so focused on each other that by the time that Finstock calls a halt to the dance, they’re both breathing heavily and there’s only an inch of space between them that’s rapidly growing smaller.

The applause causes both of them to startle and leap apart as if they were doing something wrong, Finstock using the moment to step between the two of them and sling an arm around their shoulders even as he yells at the rest of the class that they could learn a thing or two from the pair of them.

Stiles looks less than thrilled with the praise, which is a  _ shock _ because this is one of the  _ very few _ times Finstock has ever openly congratulated him. He barely waits for Finstock to finish speaking before he’s out the door, ignoring everyone’s calls for him to come back.

Derek’s only frozen for a moment before he’s running after him, that dance only proving that there is  _ something _ going on between the two of them that has a lot more to do than some stupid kiss, and he’s now more determined than ever to fix it… no matter what.

\---------------

Stiles somehow manages to make it all the way to his ramshackle of a blue Jeep before Derek can catch up to him, but when he does, he pulls Stiles away from the door he’s only just unlocked and slams his hands on either side of Stiles’ head.

“Well, after that  _ stunning _ dance in there and the fact that you nearly kicked my head off a few times, I’m going to insist that we talk about this, because  _ something  _ tells me that there’s something going on here that I missed.” For all that his family has teased him for being almost clinically mute, Derek  _ can _ use his words when the situation calls for it. If the past half hour has told him anything, it’s that he  _ really _ needs to use his words. Sighing heavily, Derek drops both his arms and his voice as Stiles’ posture seems to have gone from rigid anger to limp resignation. “Just… let me know what I did wrong so I can fix it,  _ please _ . You’re-”

He was going to say ‘important to me’, but a full bodied flinch from Stiles has his words drying up in his throat as the younger boy raises defeated and hurt eyes to meet his own.

“You… you  _ can’t _ fix this, okay? There’s  _ nothing _ you can- Just forget about it, alright? I’m dealing with it and I just need a little more time before everything will be as it was before you left, just give me a little time.”

“How do you know I can’t fix it?” Derek crosses his arms and meets Stiles’ glare head-on, too relieved that they’re talking to reign anything in. “You won’t even  _ tell me _ -”

“I just  _ know _ , okay? There’s nothing you can do and you looking like I just ripped out your heart isn’t helping things-”

“You’ve been avoiding me like I carried the plague for the past  _ three days _ ! How am I  _ supposed _ to look?”

“ **_Jesus_ ** , Derek.” Stiles pushes past Derek’s form to pace in a small circle before he turns around and takes his turn at pinning someone to the Jeep. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re supposed to feel, that’s half the problem right there!”

“Stiles, you’re not making any sen-”

Once more, his words are cut off, but Derek will have to say that he much prefers this method of getting him to shut up to the last one. For whatever reason that Stiles had come up with in that amazingly crazy brain of his, he chooses _now_ to kiss Derek senseless.

It’s a lot like the dance in the studio had been, more of a battle than an act of affection, and Derek is just as determined as last time not to lose. As soon as he gets his bearings, which is about the time that Stiles is pulling away, he grips a handful of this infuriating man’s hair in one hand and uses that to guide his mouth right where he wants it, nipping and sucking at Stiles’ lips like he’s making a claim and a statement all at the same time.

It’s bruising, it’s harsh, and it’s somehow perfect because Stiles responds by dragging his fingernails down Derek’s back and moaning into the kiss like everything is killing him, while also driving him seconds away from the best orgasm of his life.

Sadly, the need for oxygen makes them pull apart slowly, each one coming back for one more nip or press that distracts them for a couple minutes more before they finally move ever so slightly away from each other to breathe for a few moments before Stiles smacks Derek on the shoulder.

“Hey! What the fu-”

“You deserved that!”

“I did not!”

“You so did! Why the hell did you pull away at the party, if you wanted to kiss me like  _ that _ ?”

Derek can feel the tips of his ears starting to get warm, but it makes a bucket of cold water drop over his head as he remembers another good reason why this thing between the two of them is a bad idea.

“I saw Caitlin and Emily in the living room and when you came onto me, I could smell the whiskey on your breath when you tried to kiss me, so I thought that- I was just convenient to you and that you just wanted- I couldn’t- I  **_can’t_ ** just be some rebound or one night stand to you, Stiles. You mean a lot more to me than that.”

Stiles blinks at him for a few moments, almost like he’s trying to send a message in Morse code, before throwing his head back and laughing like he finally got the punchline to a joke that’s been bothering him for years.

If he didn’t sound so happy, Derek would strongly consider punching him in the nose.

After a few more stray chuckles, Stiles leans forward and gives Derek a soft peck on the lips that’s such a complete antithesis to the one before that Derek is almost unconscious of the fact that he follows Stiles’ lips when they part from his, a bereft noise slipping out with almost no say from him.

Stiles makes a soothing hum in the back of his throat, dragging the tip of his nose alongside Derek’s before muttering, “Caitlin and Emily have been dating since middle school, and I haven’t even looked at anyone but you since before I even realized I was into dudes.”

This time it’s Derek that’s left blinking blankly before thunking his head against the Jeep behind him. “We’re dumb.”

“Mhm, but we got there eventually. And be nice to Roscoe, he’s had a hard day.”

Derek closes his eyes and keeps his head tilted so that Stiles can’t see the smile that spreads across his face at hearing that teasing lilt to Stiles’ voice again. “Please tell me you didn’t name this thing ‘Roscoe’.”

“Hey, no picking on the car that I’m going to blow you in.”

Derek jolts like he’s been electrocuted, a thundering shiver of desire going through his entire body at those words as his gaze snaps to where Stiles is now looking like he wishes he said something else. “I-I mean, if you don’t want-”

“I want.”

The grin Stiles shoots him is blinding. “Made you go caveman with that one, gotta remember that.”

“Wanting less now.”

Stiles throws his hands up in surrender before lowering them to rub along Derek’s arms in a way that reminds him that he’s dressed only in a leotard, making him put out a hand to stop Stiles from leaning in, but keeping it more of a caress so that there aren’t any more misunderstandings.

“Aw, come on! You know me, Derek! Teasing is part of my charm! It’s an integral part of what makes people want to keep me around! I mean, I  _ can _ tone it down if you really want me to-”

“No, no, that’s not it.” Derek nabs one of Stiles’ hands and brushes a kiss across the knuckles, then does it again because he can now. “It’s just that… we’re right outside Hale Academy… where my  **_mother_ ** works. I’d rather not announce that you and I are dating with someone catching us in the parking lot.”

Stiles’ eyes go wide at the word ‘dating’ and even wider when he no doubt imagines getting caught going down on her son by the Hale matriarch. “Okay, new plan; your house?”

“Peter’s there.”

“My house it is, then.”

“See you in twenty.”

Stiles frowns a little, fingers twisting as he adopts a casual tone to ask, “Why so long, beau? Already tired of me?”

Derek steps into Stiles’ space and kisses him for a long while before pulling back to breathe across his lips, “We have a lot of time to make up, and I want to make sure we’re well stocked to enjoy  _ every _ minute of it.”

Walking with an erection isn’t one of Derek’s favorite past times, but it’s worth it for the utterly  _ gobsmacked _ look that Stiles has when he turns away.


	8. One Last Dance

It’s only when he’s driving away from the Academy that Derek realizes that he has literally  _ no clue _ as to what he is doing. As much fun as kissing Stiles had been and feeling how much Stiles was enjoying the kissing as well, Derek doesn’t really know the mechanics of how sex with another man work.

Not to say he didn’t know the basics. His mother had set him down for the sex talk, Peter had traumatized him by showing him a few sites that he’s sure he can never wash from his brain, and he’s gone exploring as well-so he knows lube and condoms are a  **_must_ ** -but he’s not really sure what happens beyond that.

He knows there’s stretching, fisting, and something called rimming? He hasn’t really got to that particular video yet, never having a moment to himself when he was at home, and always feeling weird doing it while at the American School of Ballet even though Jackson had no problem blasting  _ his _ porn at full volume at all hours of the day.

This is something he probably should’ve talked about with Stiles, but instead Derek had made it seem like he was some sort of sex guru and walked off like a badass, but with no game plan.

Twenty-two years old and you’d think he’d be less of a screw up…

Focusing on one problem at a time, Derek makes his way to the nearest convenience store and stocks up on everything he needs. He could’ve done without the Eyebrow of Judgement™, but it doesn’t really matter when he thinks about the fact that Stiles is waiting for him, and the fact that he’ll probably not have to come back for a very long time.

His mother’s Eyebrow(s) of Judgement™ are much worse, anyway.

All too soon, he’s parked in front of the Stilinski driveway and he’s trying to calm down enough to get out of the car, walk up the driveway, and knock on the door. The same door he’s knocked on, pushed through, and had even  _ fallen through _ that one time. Only now, he’s going in that house with a completely different goal than finally beating Stiles at Mario Kart. He’s going in there to have sex with a boy he’s been in love with almost without realizing it.

A boy who’s probably getting nervous about the fact that Derek hasn’t shown up yet, given that it’s about five minutes past the twenty he had given Stiles.

It’s that thought, that Stiles is just as nervous as he is and he’s not doing them any favors by staying out here, that finally has Derek pushing himself out of the car, grabbing the bag from the backseat, and walking up to the Stilinski’s front door and ringing the bell.

His brain decides to take that moment to wonder if he should’ve made the meetup a few hours from now so he had some time to take a shower and clean up a bit, but then Stiles is opening the door and Derek can’t really think at all.

Stiles’ brain had obviously been taking cues from his, because he’s draped in a thin bath towel around his waist and his hair is damp like he just stepped out of the shower, with a water droplet sliding down his shoulder to the crest of his pectoral that Derek wants to follow with his tongue.

“Oh! Hey, I was just- uh- getting cleaned up a bit and just- uh- lost track of time?” Stiles’ words die out when Derek reaches out and drags a hand through the water he was entranced with earlier before leaning forward to suck a mark on Stiles’ neck, making his next words high and reedy. “Or maybe I used my time perfectly?”

There’s a noncommittal noise coming from Derek’s throat as he continues exploring his new fascination with Stiles’  _ everything _ , nosing along his jaw and scraping his teeth against the tendon in his neck.

“Ooooh,  **_god_ ** ,” The reverence in Stiles’ voice makes Derek grin, but before he can continue, Stiles pushes him back a few steps and takes a huge gulping breath before blurting out, “As much as I want that to continue, and I  _ do _ want that to continue for a  **_long time_ ** , we’re standing in the middle of my doorway, my towel is slipping, and I  _ really _ don’t want to give Mrs. Henderson down the street a peep show or have my dad bust us for public indecency.”

Derek hums thoughtfully before stating, “You’re the one still standing in the doorway, Stiles.”

Flushing beautifully, showing Derek that it  _ does _ go past his neck-the towel cuts off the path around his waist, filling Derek with an almost unconquerable urge to say ‘fuck everything’ and see how much further he can make that towel ‘slip’, Stiles mutters something along the lines of it not being  _ his _ fault he was met by an attractive boyfriend when he’s trying to take a shower.

Grinning at the easy way that Stiles calls them ‘boyfriends’, Derek catches Stiles staring at him, bow mouth slightly parted. There’s a moment where it seems like Stiles’ thought process has gone the same way as Derek’s and there might be a bit of a show right there on the front porch. Thankfully, for both Sheriff Stilinski’s future sanity and Derek’s future police record, Stiles moves back so that Derek can finally get into the house.

When the door is closed behind him, however…

There’s barely a click of the lock catching before Stiles’ hands are in his hair, lips pressed surprisingly gentle against his with a warm heat behind them, his body sticking slightly against Derek’s and causing him to chuckle as he pulls back slightly to grin at Derek like he’s about to devour him.

“I think we can get rid of this now,” Stiles purrs as he drags a finger along the neckline of Derek’s leotard, causing Derek to groan and drop his head on Stiles’ shoulder. “The skin-to-clothing ratio is a little uneven at this point, you know?”

Derek nips at Stiles’ lower lip, then laves at the hurt so he can hear Stiles make that throaty sound from earlier. “You’re the one that didn’t want to give the neighbors a show, and now you’re asking me to strip in front of non-curtained windows? You need to make up your mind.”

“Hey, it’s not  _ my _ fault that I want to see you naked as soon as possible, what with how all the chances before have been thwarted by either your interfering sisters or your adorable shyness. Trust me, Der-Bear, you have absolutely  _ nothing _ to be ashamed of.”

It’s said with this exaggerated eyebrow wiggle as Stiles turns to head upstairs and Derek can’t help giving his butt a swat when Stiles shakes it in front of him, his face almost hurting from how wide he’s grinning as he states, “You’re not that bad yourself, you know.”

The yelp that follows doesn’t really sound hurt, more that Stiles actually _liked_ that, and Derek studies the man in front of him as he follows him to his room. It’s something that he thinks they should explore later, the flush covering the back of Stiles’ form letting him know that Stiles knows it too.

When they’re in Stiles’ room and Derek has set his bag of supplies on the side table, there’s a sudden silence that has Derek muttering, “We don’t have to do anything, Stiles. I’m perfectly happy with watching a Marvel movie and making out with you on the bed.”

“What, you’re not getting cold feet already, Der-Bear?” Stiles tries to tease, but the smirk drops off his face at Derek’s scowl and there’s a moment of silence before his voice also lowers to the tone that Derek had taken. “No, I know that nothing has to happen and you’ve always been good about letting me know that, even in simpler things, but…  **_I_ ** want this to happen. Do  **_you_ ** ?”

Derek reaches out to pull Stiles to him even as he falls backward so that they land somewhat in the middle of Stiles’ bed, Stiles slightly sprawled over him. “Yeah, I want this, so much that it scares me a little, actually.”

“It’s just me, Der.” Stiles drags a hand down the side of Derek’s face in a caress that makes the knot in his chest loosen, makes him press a kiss against Stiles’ palm. “You know me, I know you, we’ll be okay.”

Derek wants to say that Stiles isn’t ‘just’ anybody, but that’s an argument for another time. For now, he just nods and pulls Stiles forward into a kiss, letting that say all the things he can’t right now.

It slowly builds from that, wandering hands gripping skin and a soft rocking building between their bodies before Stiles is gasping, “Okay, seriously, you need to lose that leotard. I need you naked, like,  **_yesterday_ ** …”

Derek laughs and helps Stiles pull off his clothes, chuckling at Stiles’ running commentary of ‘stupid, skin-hugging, impossible-to-remove-and-getting-in-the-way-of-my-sexy-times leotard!’ the entire time they’re fighting to get it off his skin while trying to keep from letting go of each other, which probably hinders more than helps them at that point, but neither of them are really in the mood to care.

Then the leotard is off, finally- **_finally_ ** -and Stiles throws it to a far corner of the room with a little growl, his towel quickly following after and then they’re coming together, skin on skin and…

Oh.

**_Oh_ ** …

Derek might be having a religious experience, and if the groan that falls from Stiles’ mouth is anything to go by, he’s not the only one having it. He does the only thing he can think of to make it better. He reaches down and wraps his hand around both his and Stiles’ cocks, testing a few strokes before he finds the one that makes Stiles nearly go boneless with pleasure, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head.

“Fuck… Holy shit…  **_Jesus Christ._ ** ” An expletive falls from Stiles’ lips with every shift of their bodies and Derek really doesn’t have anything to add but his own breathy groans, considering he agrees with everything that Stiles says.

“Okay, I know I said I was going to blow you…but considering the fact that…  **_holy fuck_ ** … about fifty of my teenaged fantasies are coming true right now… oh  **_god_ ** , do that again… I think I’d be excused if I don’t last that long.”

Where Stiles has the breath to say that, Derek has no idea, and he will blame the lack of blood going to his brain that he blurts out the first thing that he thinks of after hearing that. “Think you can last long enough to fuck me?”

Stiles jerks against him in a way that pulls a groan from both of their mouths before reaching down to slap Derek’s hand away and gripping himself tightly at the base of his dick, glaring at Derek as he does so. “ **_Jesus fuck_ ** , Derek! You can’t just  _ say _ things like that!”

“Does that mean you don’t want to?” Derek asks, innocently shifting into a more comfortable position.

Stiles’ glare just gets darker. “Dick.”

“Yes, actually,” Derek agrees, before dragging teasing fingers along Stiles’ hip, his knuckles brushing against Stiles’ grip on his cock that’s starting to look _painful_ now. “Yours, hopefully.”

Stiles’ eyeslids flutter at the sensation, his glare quickly losing its shape. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No, you’re right, I really,  _ really _ don’t” Stiles’ voice has gone breathless again and then he’s pushing past Derek to get at the bag that Derek brought with him, “So, how do you want to do this? Downward dog style, or missionary?” The teasing note is calming, which is good, considering that Stiles is sprawled almost completely across his lap and his wriggling butt is making it a little difficult to focus.

Derek grabs Stiles’ hips to still his movements and groans out, “Whatever is more comfortable for someone’s first time, considering I’ve never done this before.”

Stiles jerks at that and Derek groans as the friction almost feels like too much, his fingers digging into Stiles’ hips that has him sighing out a moan, before the only sound in the room is the sound of their breathing.

“Holy shit, I mean…” Stiles is, of course, the first person to get his breath back and he’s pulling back to look at Derek with eyes that are wide and nearly all pupil as he drags his tongue across his upper lip. “ **_Seriously_ ** ?!?”

“ **_Yes_ ** , Stiles,” Derek snaps, annoyed that  _ this _ is what makes him feel vulnerable, not the fact that he’s naked in someone else’s bed. But, like Stiles said before, he knows him, so Derek continues, “I never really… felt comfortable with anyone else… so I never even  _ dated _ and yeah, there were people in New York that were interested, but-” But the way they looked at him like he was just a piece of meat or a toy for them to enjoy always had made his skin  _ crawl.  _ It had only taken a few nights before Erica and Isaac would cut off the people that tried to talk Derek into coming home with them with flirtatious winks and sly looks, Boyd bodily standing in front of Derek whenever anyone decided to be particularly…  **_persistent_ ** .

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay.” Stiles drops whatever he had in his hands to wrap his arms around Derek’s shoulders, pressing a gentle kiss there as well. “I was just…  _ shocked _ , I guess. I mean, if we’re going by looks  _ alone _ , you would have people throwing themselves at you left and right, and when you throw your personality in there-”

“What, nerdy, awkward, and not very willing to talk to strangers?”

“Who said  **_that_ ** ?”

“You did.”

Stiles giggles against his shoulder, shaking his head as he mutters, “I’m such a shit sometimes.”

“More like all the time, but I get your point.”

Stiles shoves Derek until he’s flat on his back before straddling him and staring him down in a way that makes Derek feel like he’s almost looking  _ through _ him. “You, Derek Hale, are an amazing person. You love your family unconditionally, even if there are a few that don’t really deserve it, and you are fiercely protective of the people that matter to you. There are a thousand reasons why someone would love you, and the fact that people have missed that means that they’re absolute idiots, but I guess I’m a little grateful to them too.”

Stiles is a very light person, lithe and barely muscled, but Derek is still feeling slightly breathless when he asks, “Why is that?”

“Because it means that I get to love you for as long as you’ll let me.” Stiles grins like a madman before dipping down to peck Derek’s nose, before moving to grab the long forgotten supplies. “That’s enough sappiness for now. Let’s get back to the sexy times!”

Derek has to laugh at that, because it’s just so  _ Stiles _ , but he has one thing he needs to say before they continue, so he rubs a hand across Stiles’ leg to get his attention. “Hey, Stiles?”

“Hm?” He’s warming the lube in his hands as he turns to look at Derek, which he appreciates and just makes everything seem that much more perfect. Derek can’t help himself from leaning forward to press a kiss against this amazing boy’s lips.

“I love you too.” One more gentle kiss before he says, very seriously, “Now put your dick in me, before mine falls off.”

Stiles barks out a laugh at that, before returning the kiss and muttering, “As you wish.”

The first touch of Stiles’ finger makes Derek twitch a little, unaccustomed to someone touching him there and unsure of what it is exactly that he’s feeling, but Stiles simply makes a soothing noise in the back of his throat as he gently coaxes the first finger past the rim.

The steady pressure makes an involuntary curious noise fall from his lips that has Stiles’ attention snapping to him as he stills almost immediately. “You okay there, Der?”

It  _ had _ felt a little strange at first, the sensation of something breaching him and his body fighting it, but Stiles had been so gentle and waited for his body to get used to the newness of it all that it had just faded to a low hum of pleasure that Derek wants more of.

Derek can’t help the noise that slips out, spurred on by the choked sound of Stiles gasping, “ **_Jesus_ ** , Derek…” as he moves from one finger to two, scissoring and stretching Derek so much that he’s is rocking back and making needy noises before he even knows what he’s doing, fingers gripping the sheets in a desperate need to ground himself.

There’s the snick of the bottle opening and then there’s more fingers, but Derek doesn’t have much time to dwell on it because Stiles is brushing against something that has white stars flashing across his vision as an almost hurt whine falls out of his mouth.

“ **_Oh, holy god_ ** , the way you  _ look _ , Derek… You love this, don’t you?” Stiles’ voice is hushed and his gaze is almost blazing in its intensity as he watches Derek fall apart underneath him, his other hand stroking absentmindedly down Derek’s side. “I want- Can I-?”

“Yes, yes,  **_please_ ** …” Derek wants so much  _ more _ of this, wants to have Stiles in any way that he can, and when he feels Stiles’ cock start pressing at his hole, his legs fall open almost of their own volition and is rewarded with Stiles’ own hurt noise.

It’s a long, slow slide and when Stiles finally bottoms out, pressed as close as he possibly can be to Derek without any room for air between the two of them, the only way that Derek can think of describing how he’s feeling-how good, how right, how  _ full _ -is an articulate, “Fuck.”

“Yeah.” Stiles sounds just as lost above him, a tremor or two shaking his form every now and again. “Yeah, that’s a good… yeah. I’m gonna need a little bit here, holy  **_god_ ** …”

They lay there for a little bit, getting used to the fact that they’re  _ here _ and this is  _ actually happening _ . Derek shifts his hips a bit after a few moments and Stiles lets out a long groan and starts moving back and… and…  **_and_ ** …

Oh, it feels  _ glorious _ . If he was having a religious moment before, then  _ this _ is divinity right here, making him finally  _ understand  _ how people can go on and on about sex like it’s a holy thing. Something tells him that it's because it’s happening with  _ Stiles _ that it feels this strong.

A warm heat in Derek’s stomach starts growing in intensity with every thrust of Stiles’ hips, his hands finally releasing from the bedsheets to grab at those fantastic hips and urge him on, to demand he go harder,  _ faster _ .

Stiles curses, a garbled mess of syllables that might be a mishmash of words or freaking  _ Latin _ for all Derek knows, before he’s  _ lifting Derek’s legs _ over his shoulders, changing the angle and bending down so that he can kiss Derek while muttering about how  _ good _ he feels, how  _ right _ everything is in that moment and wrapping sinfully long fingers around Derek’s cock in just the right way.

Well, Derek is only human and he dares anyone to last very long after something like  _ that _ .

He comes with a shout, arching even  _ more _ into Stiles and tightening around him, making Stiles press his own cry into Derek’s mouth as he also shudders into completion after a few more thrusts.

Stiles may slightly drop Derek’s legs onto the bed as he slips out of the him, causing Derek to wince a bit at both the empty feeling and the lube he can feel dripping out of him, but Derek doesn’t really blame him. He’s completely  _ boneless  _ right now as he watches Stiles tie off the condom and drop it into a wastebasket by the bed.

Stiles then grabs a shirt from a chair by the table and swipes at Derek’s stomach before he deems him clean enough, tossing the shirt in the same direction he also threw the leotard and towel, before snuggling up against Derek’s chest.

“We totally kick ass at the sex thing, just so you know.” Stiles nods to himself as he looks up at Derek with a smug smile. “I mean, I know _I_ enjoyed myself and, going by the sounds you were making, _you_ enjoyed yourself _a lot_ , sooo…”

Derek laughs and mutters, “Quit fishing for compliments. You  _ know _ I enjoyed myself,” before he pulls Stiles in for a kiss, only intending to keep it short and sweet, but Stiles has other ideas when he slips his tongue into Derek’s mouth and shifts so that they’re once more pressed together on the bed.

They’re quickly warming up into a round two when a sudden knocking at Stiles’ door freezes them in their tracks, Stiles’ wide eyes meeting Derek’s in a silent demand of what to do.

They don’t have long to consider before John’s voice is coming through the door. “I know you’re in there, Stiles, and I know Derek is with you. While I’m aware that you’re a grown man who can make your own decisions, I’m just letting you know that your mother and I are home, so could you at least… put on some music or something?”

The chuckle that follows that lets Derek know that Claudia can hear John’s awkward attempt to ignore everything that just happened in his son’s bedroom and it all makes him want to hide under the covers.

“Aw, Dad, you’re ruining my afterglow!”

Derek can practically see John throw his hands up in the air as he hears the man stomp away, his wife’s laughter following him the entire way. “I don’t want to hear about it!”

Stiles leans down so he’s laying back on Derek’s chest, idly rubbing his hand in circles on Derek’s side before sighing, “Well, we’ve been caught by my parents in the middle of salacious acts. Looks like you’re stuck with me forever now.”

Derek hits Stiles with the pillow for being ridiculous before giving him a kiss in agreement.

He’s okay with forever.


End file.
